Middle School Musical
by samlover14
Summary: 5 years before Troy and Ryan got together, Troy has his own story to tell. The prequel to The Board of Secrets! Follow Troy and the Wildcats on a roller coaster ride through teenage life. Troypay, Chadpay, pre-Tryan, Tryan, TroyxOC & Troyella. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Middle School Musical  
**

**A/N: Hello, my minions. Or, just people who have stumbled upon this, or accident or on purpose. This is the much awaited (for me. For you guys, it's been like six days) prequel to the Board of Secrets. By me, samlover14. In this story, I hope to discuss the history behind the Board of Secrets, and Troy's secret gay history that was simply thrust upon us in the last story. For those of you on the edge of your seats, please relax. And for anyone wanting to know why Troy doesn't wear a watch, don't worry, that's in here, too. –Fancy Word Alert– DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, nor **_**will**_** I ever own HSM or RENT, or basically anything of value. Okay, so without further ado, I present: Middle School Musical!!**

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**Introduction**

My name is Troy David Bolton. And this is my story. It all began on March 17, 1990. That's the day I was born. If we fast forwarded to August of 2002, we would get to where this story starts. The summer before my seventh grade year. I was 12 years old. You probably already know the point of this story, so I won't tell you again. So, sit back relax and enjoy the show. Story. Whatever it is. Riiight.

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**Chapter 1 Sunday, August 11, 2002 (****Notice something about this date?****)**

"Troy, guess what?" Chad asked.

"What?" I answered. I had no idea what he was going to say. Well, that's Chad for you. He's basically my best friend. At the moment, we were playing one on one in my driveway, something that we indulged in a lot, ever since we were little. I had actually just scored the game winning basket.

"Chicken butt," Chad said. I grinned. Chad was always making ridiculous jokes like that.

"Chad, you are 12 years old. Don'tcha think you're too old to be making jokes like that?" I asked.

"Hey, my cousin told me that one, and he's 16," Chad protested. As it turned out, Chad would continue making ridiculous jokes throughout his life. I didn't mind. They were funny. "Anyways, you don't mind. They're funny."

"Yeah, sure," I said.

"Hey, time check," he said.

"It's, uh…" I began. I looked at my wrist, at the sun, and back. "…I don't know. I'm not wearing a watch."

"Well, give me your best guess," Chad said. I looked at the sun again.

"Around four, I'd say," I said.

"No way. They'd be here by now. It's like…" Chad looked around for a clock, finding one nearby. "…two-thirty. You are horrible. Anyways, I'm hungry."

"So what else is new?" I asked. Chad was always hungry.

"I hate Sharpay?" he said. That wasn't new either. He had always hated her. She was basically the girl who goes out of her way to make your life miserable. Not that she'd ever been like that to me. We had a "thing" going on. I sighed. Sharpay was actually supposed to be at my house in half an hour, if it was indeed two-thirty. She and Ryan needed a place to stay because their parents were going to be out again. They were out constantly. Sharpay and Ryan were rich, and I couldn't see why they couldn't just stay at their house with all their staff. It was going to be okay though, because I had invited over some of the people, and we were going to have a good old fashioned party, the twelve year old way.

"Do you really _hate_ Sharpay? That's such a strong word," I said. Chad thought.

"I loathe her. How's that?" Chad said.

"Better," I said. We walked into my kitchen, and Chad immediately opened the fridge. "Time for milk."

"Trudat," he said.

"Trudat? What kind of word is trudat?" I asked.

"It means whatever you said was true. True, that. Trudat," he explained. I rolled my eyes. Chad was always coming up with ridiculous words. Chad and I took sandwiches and glasses of milk to the table. "So they're really coming over again?" I nodded. For some unexplainable reason, I simultaneously liked and disliked it when the Evans' came over. "For how long this time?"

"Until Thursday," I said.

"That's _way_ too long," Chad said.

"Trudat," I said.

"See? You get it," Chad said. I rolled my eyes again. The doorbell rang. "Get that," Chad instructed me. I shot him a look. "I'm not getting the door. It's your house, and I don't want to talk to them."

"They're not _that_ bad, Chad," I said, getting up to open the door for Sharpay and Ryan.

"Yes, man, they are," Chad said. I sighed and opened the door. On the steps, as I had figured, were the blond twins of East Albuquerque.

"Hey guys," I said.

"Hi Troy!" Sharpay said. She might have been flirting, but I couldn't tell.

"Hi," said Ryan, a little less happily.

"Come on in," I said. "Chad's here."

"Oh great," said Chad from the kitchen. "Tell them I'm here so I can't even surprise them."

"Sorry," I said. "Chad _isn't_ here. I forgot our kitchen was just channeling his spirit today." Sharpay and Ryan both laughed to my surprise.

"Thanks, man," Chad said from the kitchen. Sharpay dropped her two giant pink suitcases at the bottom of the staircase. Ryan put his one much smaller blue suitcase next to it and we all continued into the kitchen.

"So where are your parents going this time?" I asked.

"California," Ryan said.

"Why?" Chad asked.

"Well, they were aiming for Las Vegas, but they missed," Sharpay explained, sarcastically. Chad gave me a "See? She hates me!" face and I smirked. I personally never thought Sharpay hated Chad. She was just rude by nature. Again, though, not to me. My dad came into the kitchen.

"Troy, did I hear the– oh, they're here," he said, spotting the twins.

"Yeah," I said.

"Your mother and I will just stay out of your hair, then. I'm just gonna grab the Tostitos," my dad said. "Hope your party's hip to the max." He grabbed some chips and salsa and went down the hall and up the stairs.

"Who's coming this time?" Sharpay asked, sighing.

"Just the people," I said. Sharpay sighed again, trying to make it overly obvious that she didn't like the people. The doorbell rang again before I could say anything else.

"I got it!" Chad yelled, running for the door. Sharpay sent an annoyed look after him, but he didn't notice. "Troy, Chuckie's here!" Chuckie Brown, fellow Wildcat basketball player. He was fun, and one of my favorite people to hang out with besides Chad, Zeke, and Jason. Chad and Chuckie came into the kitchen and sat themselves at the table as well. Sharpay was thoroughly unimpressed with the boys. Ryan, on the other hand, was always interested in us.

"So, what's good these days, Ryan?" Chuckie asked.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Rehearsal, golf, and yoga," Ryan replied. "And I'm not gonna lie, golf is not something I'm good at."

"Yeah," Sharpay said, "but Troy is." Another thing Sharpay liked to do was compare her brother and myself, in order to constantly remind him how inferior he was. It made me feel bad every time she did it.

"Ryan's good at his yoga, though," Chuckie interjected. Chuckie liked to keep Sharpay in line. It always seemed as though he wasn't as scared of her as the rest of the basketball team was. There was something off about him. That's why Chad had thought it important to talk to him and, of course, this task got delegated to me. I had to figure out what his secret was for our Class of 2008 Board of Secrets. It _had_ been my idea, not that I'm proud of it or anything. Chuckie, however, had told us that he needed to talk to us, or me, at least.

By five o'clock, the rest of the basketball team and some cheerleaders we had invited had arrived and our "party" commenced. None of us knew exactly what one did at a party, but we usually did our own things. Sometimes we played Truth or Dare, or Spin the Bottle. I ended up in the living room with Chad, Zeke, and Chuckie.

"Okay, Chuckie, spill it," Chad said. "What is the big thing you need to tell us?"

"Aren't we supposed to guess?" I asked. Chad silenced me with a look and we all proceeded to stare at Chuckie, as he took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but no words came out. "Are you okay?" I asked. He didn't look it. He looked like he was going to throw up.

"Uh, yeah. Can I talk to Troy in private for a sec?" Chuckie asked. I nodded and we went upstairs to my bedroom.

"What's up, Chuck?" I asked. He laughed a little at my rhyme.

"I just don't think…there were just too many people down there," he said.

"Are you okay?" I asked again.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. There was a pause. "Okay Troy. You want to hear the secret?" I looked at him.

"Only if you want to tell me," I said.

"I do," he said. "But it's pretty big. Just don't, like, freak out or anything."

"What's up?" I repeated, now a little scared.

"Okay, here it is," Chuckie said. "I'm gay." I sat staring at him for a second.

"What?" I asked.

"I said–" he began again.

"No, I heard what you said. I think. I just…really?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I mean, I know I'm, like, 11 years old, but…when you know, you _know_. There's no ifs, ands, or buts about it." Chuckie's birthday is September 19, 1990, which means I'm older than him.

"Okay," I said. "That's…great…I guess. Good for you."

"Yeah," he said. "I guess." He seemed a little down.

"There's nothing wrong with it," I said.

"I know," he said. "It's just…I didn't really expect you to be so accepting."

"Why not?" I asked. Chuckie was my friend, why wouldn't I be accepting?

"It's just not something jocks usually like," Chuckie explained.

"You're a jock," I pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah, kinda," he said. "But, uh, I'd really appreciate it if this _didn't_ get out."

"Okay," I agreed. "Yeah, man, I got your back. No worries."

"Thanks, Troy," he said.

"Whoa," I said, suddenly thinking of something. "You don't, like, have a crush on me or anything, right?"

"No," said Chuckie, quickly. "No. No way. That'd be weird."

"Okay," I said. "Thank God. I mean, no offense, but…yeah."

"Yeah," Chuckie said. "I understand, and no worries man. That's just weird."

"What's weird?" I spun around to see the person speaking. It was my nine-year-old brother, Dylan.

"Nothing," I said quickly.

"Yeah," Chuckie said. "Why don't you go downstairs and play with the people?"

"Okay," Dylan said. "But I'm watching you." He left the doorway to my room.

"Next time we intend on having private conversations, we should probably close the door," I suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," Chuckie said. "And, uh, thanks again for being so supportive and stuff."

"Hey, that's what friends are for," I said. "We're all in this together, right?"

"Yeah," Chuckie agreed. "And, um, I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone about this…until, you know, I'm ready."

"Of course, man," I said. "I told you, I got your back."

"Awesome," Chuckie said. "Let's go downstairs. I feel a party coming on." I smirked at his joke and we both went back downstairs. I couldn't help but wonder, though, as we were walking, why he had wanted me to be the first to know. Did he think that if I was accepting that the rest of the team would be too? I thought on this until I was interrupted by Sharpay, who had gotten a bunch of people together to play Truth or Dare.

"This'll be fun," I said, sarcastically to myself. Sharpay heard me and slapped my arm. She then made us all sit in a circle. To make a long story short, nothing all that interesting happened for the rest of that night, and no boys ended up kissing any other boys, which was a "darn shame", as Sharpay said. She really didn't hate the people as much as she pretended.

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**A/N: So, that was the first chapter of this prequel. Prequel means that it was written after, but comes before something else chronologically in time, in case anyone was wondering. I know that this isn't very long, and not in the least bit informative at all, but I'll hopefully be putting up another chapter tomorrow, if I can. In the meantime, thanks for reading this, and please review!! It would make me so much better!! –Long pause– I must…resist…the urge…to make…any more…Legally…Blonde…jokes…**

**Samantha.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Monday, August 12, 2002 (****The next day ****)**

The next morning, the only people remaining at my house were myself, Sharpay and Ryan, of course, and Chuckie, and Chad, who both had permission to also spend the night. My parents and brother were there too, but they weren't really bothering us. I was sitting in the living room with Chuckie and Chad, and we were playing with my PlayStation. Actually, they were playing, and I was losing horribly. I was really, really bad at the game we were playing. You have to kill these…whatever. I was bad at it, anyways. Eventually, they figured that they had kicked my ass enough times, and we went into the kitchen, to find Ryan sitting there all by his lonesome.

"What's up, Ry?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, shrugging.

"You're up awfully early," Chuckie remarked.

"You try sleeping all night in a room with Sharpay," Ryan shot back, not particularly rudely.

"Never gonna happen," Chad said. "Never ever."

"Sure," I said to him. "Chad's just jealous, I think. He just wants to have her for himself."

"Whoa, dude," Chad said. "That is _not_ true. Take it back."

"Fine," I said. "You're just lying to yourself."

"Dude, don't say stuff like that around here," Chad said. "People could hear you and not realize you're _kidding_."

"Yeah, so anyways, Ryan, you don't have to sit in the kitchen all by yourself," I said. "You could have come and help me lose at PlayStation."

"Pretty sure you don't need any help with that," Ryan said.

"Burn," Chuckie said to me, slapping five with Ryan. I rolled my eyes and took some toaster strudel out of the freezer.

"Okay, fine," I said. "Who wants toaster strudel?" They all did and when we had finished it, Dylan appeared in the kitchen.

"You guys are really loud," he remarked, yawning and sitting down at the table. "Where's my toaster strudel?"

"In the box?" Chad retorted, mostly to himself. I just rolled my eyes and passed Dylan a plate. Chad, Chuckie, Ryan, and I went outside to the basketball court. Sharpay would know where to find us if she got up sometime before it got dark, which was highly unlikely.

"Who's playing today?" Chad asked.

"I'm out," I said.

"Me too," Ryan said. Chad positively laughed out loud.

"Yeah, we figured that one," he said. "Chuckie?"

"I don't know," Chuckie said. "I don't really feel like it."

"Dude," Chad said.

"Why don't you just wait for Dylan to finish breakfast, and then you can win for a change?" Ryan suggested.

"Burn," I said, slapping five with Ryan. Chad just rolled his eyes. It's customary that when you get burned by Ryan, he and the person who says burn slap five, and the person who got burned rolls his eyes. It's just what we do. It would probably be useful to tell you that we actually had told Chad about Chuckie the night before. We hadn't told anyone else, ergo Ryan didn't know. Chuckie just didn't want people to know just yet, and that was fine by us.

"Troy Bolton, I swear if you get all sweaty I will not touch you," Sharpay was saying from the door to the house. I was surprised she was even up.

"Ah, the Ice Princess," Chad said. "What are you doing awake?"

"Shove off, Chad," Sharpay said. "Isn't it obvious I don't like you?"

"Burn," Ryan said. He and Sharpay slapped five and Chad rolled his eyes again. So maybe it's customary when anyone burns you.

"Shar, really, how could you withhold yourself from such a sexy piece of man?" I asked her, indicating myself.

"Bragging, as usual," Chad said, sarcastically. I hardly ever bragged. Sharpay just rolled her eyes and walked ­– no, strutted – over to me, parting the boys as she went.

"Didn't get much time to talk last night," she said. "How are you, baby?"

"Uh, I'm fine," I said. "A little confused. What are you doing awake?"

"One word," Sharpay said. "Dylan." She made a disgusted face and sound to go along with it. "He's making a racket in the living room, and your mother can apparently sleep through anything."

"She has two boys," I said. "What do you really expect?"

"Mm," Sharpay said.

"Okay, if you two are done _flirting_," Chad said, "could we get back to the game, here?"

"No," Sharpay said. "Don't talk to me." I sighed.

"Who's playing?" I asked. No one really looked like they wanted to play. "Okay, then what _are_ we going to do today?"

"We could build a roller coaster," Chuckie suggested.

"Nah, we did that last week," Chad said. No one could come up with anything really good to do, and we stood around thinking, while Ryan, mostly unnoticed, scored a basket. When we heard the ball hit the ground, we all looked around at him, as he was celebrating his victory, and stared. "What just happened?"

"Nothing," Ryan said, very quickly, stopping his victory dance.

"Okay, that's what I thought," Chad said. Chuckie, on the other hand, was very impressed.

"Whoa," he said. "That was awesome."

"Uh, thanks," Ryan said. "I've kind of always wanted to do that."

"Okay, this is weird," Chad said.

"It's weird," Sharpay agreed.

"Very weird," Chad said.

"Freakin weird," Sharpay said.

"Will you two stop agreeing?" I said, now very annoyed.

"Yeah, it's not like you're fighting with microphones, or freezing down to your bones, or so mad that you don't know what to do," Ryan said. Everyone stared at him. "Geez, it's from RENT. And stop staring already." No one stopped staring, except Sharpay, who already knew what it was about. "Although you'd be hard pressed to find two people better to sing the Tango: Maureen. It's Maureen's girlfriend and ex-boyfriend, and they sing this song about how Maureen's so, you know, whatever, and she's always flirting with other people, boys, girls, whoever she sees. Of course, in this situation, Troy would be Maureen, and–"

"Ooh, burn!" Sharpay said, slapping five with Ryan. I wasn't exactly sure who had been burned, so I didn't know to roll my eyes or not.

"Anyways, I think that's bordering on a little too much information," Chad said, returning his gaze to a spot of pavement on the ground just in front of him.

"Have you ever tried fighting with a microphone?" Ryan continued. "It's difficult."

"Yeah, it'd be like a one-sided argument," I said, "except for it'd be louder than most, because of the microphone itself."

"Hilarious," Sharpay said, losing interest. "Troy, baby, let's just sit around. I could use a good tan."

"Sure, honey," I said, not really paying attention to her. "Why don't you go get dressed?" She went back into the house.

"This could take a while," Chad said. "Who wants to play? And not you," he added, indicating Ryan. No one was really ever mean to Ryan, and I don't think Chad was being intentionally rude, but apparently Ryan thought so. He didn't cry, as you might think he would have, but he just stormed to the side of the court and lay facedown in the grass. I gave Chad a "Now look what you did" face, and went to sit next to Ryan. Chuckie sighed and played with Chad, while I attempted to convince Ryan that Chad was just jealous.

"Come on," I said, "you know he's just rejecting the unfamiliar. Stick the status quo and all that nonsense."

"I know," Ryan said, although it sounded like "Mighmohmmf."

"Ryan," I said.

"Yeah?" he said, turning his head to look at me.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Nothing, I guess." There was a pause while Ryan sat up. "Chad's probably just jealous of your…skill."

"Yeah, as if," Ryan said. "Who'd be jealous of me?"

"Uh, I am," I confessed.

"No way," he said.

"Yeah, I guess. You're so talented," I said.

"And you're not?" he asked.

"Well, you're talented in a different way," I said. "You can sing and dance like woah."

"Sure," he said, "but you have sports."

"Are we really going to have this argument?" I asked. "Just take the compliment."

"Fine," Ryan said. He watched the boys playing on the court. "She really doesn't like him, you know."

"I know," I said. "It's just a joke."

"She likes you," he said.

"I know," I said. "That's _not_ a joke."

"I feel obligated to tell you that she's my sister, and if you break her heart, I'll break your face," Ryan said. I didn't have anything to say to that, even though imagining Ryan trying to "break my face" was pretty much hilarious, and I was using all my energy to not burst out laughing.

"I know," I said a third time. "And that's not a joke either."

"And yet, somehow, it's still funny," he said.

"Well, yeah," I said. "I'm not really scared of you. Sorry."

"I try," said Ryan. "Sharpay's scary enough for the both of us. I'd be more worried about her if I were you."

"Yeah," I agreed. Sharpay emerged from the house that second wearing a swimsuit and a robe thing, both pink. Chad and Chuckie stopped playing to stare at her, as she pranced over to beside me. Keep in mind that we're all, like, 12 years old.

"Hi Troy," she said.

"Didn't we already cover that?" I asked. I couldn't really tell what they were staring at. She was cute, sure, but she was always cute. And she looked good in her swimsuit, sure, but she always did. "You look fabulous, as always."

"Fabulous, fabulous, fabulous," Ryan muttered under his breath, and I don't think anyone heard him but me.

"Yeah, okay, she's hot," Chuckie said. Chad and I stared at him. I cleared my throat very quickly.

"Dude, that's my girlfriend," I said.

"I know," Chuckie said. "I just thought I'd say it, considering no one else was going to." It struck me as odd that Chuckie was saying this, but I knew that eventually I'd figure him out. He'd said he was gay and I'd believed him, but he did seem awfully young to know yet. Most people don't come out until college, and here he was, 11 years old, and already partially out of the closet. I was going to have to research some gay jokes for everyday use, if that was how it was going to be. And yet, I couldn't place the growing sense of dread I had every time Sharpay and Ryan came to stay at my house. Chad and Chuckie were always there, but there was definitely something off about how I felt. I made a mental note to have a private chat with Chuckie later.

"Well, thank you for the compliment, Charles," Sharpay said. For some reason, she always called him Charles, even though it is quite obvious that he liked to be called Chuck or Chuckie.

"It's Chuckie," he muttered under his breath. Sharpay either ignored this comment, or didn't hear it, because she just flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and turned back to me.

"So, Troy," she began. "Are we going to tan or not?"

"I'm not exactly in the tanning mood," I said. She simply rolled her eyes and sat in one of the chairs littering the yard. "Anyways," I continued, turning back to my boys, "what are we going to do today?"

"Well, now that bitch-zilla has been tamed, I'd say it's time for something," Chad said.

"And that would be?" Ryan asked, evidently choosing to ignore the remark that Chad had made disparaging his sister.

"Not you," Chad said, turning away from him again. "We gotta do something today, you guys. How do you usually spend Mondays?"

"Playing Minesweeper?" I offered.

"You lead a sad little life," Chuckie said to me. "Well, I usually get up and have some breakfast, and then I shoot some hoops. We've obviously already covered that part. Then, I like to– why are you guys looking at me like that?" Chad was giving him a "that is _so_ gay" look, and I frowned. It wasn't nice for Chad to act this way to the boy who had once been our best friend. I sensed a falling out coming on.

"Go on," I said, curious as to what he did on a typical Monday.

"Then I listen to some music, maybe take a shower," Chuckie continued, "read a book, maybe write a story, watch a movie. This summer has been really boring." Unnoticed by Chad, Ryan had gone and taken a seat near Sharpay's. It was pretty evident he was upset by what Chad had said, but there was nothing I could do about it. Chad was always rude to the twins, no matter how much I tried to make them friends. It's a sad, sad state of affairs, really.

"God, you guys live boring lives," Chad said. "Let's play a game or something. Go rollerblading down the street, something, anything but being inside."

"I don't know, man," I said. "I'm still a little tired from last night."

"I don't even want to know," Chad said.

"Get your head out of the gutter, pervert, you know nothing was going on between me and Sharpay," I said. Chuckie's face cracked a grin. "Or me and anyone!" I clarified very quickly. "God, you guys are horrible." I turned away to gaze over at the twins, on the premise of looking at Sharpay, but it was really Ryan I was looking at. I had to know if he was going to be okay. Dylan appeared on the porch, though, before I had discerned this, and he had an idea of what to do.

"Let's play 4square, you guys," he said, grabbing a ball from the porch. Chad rolled his eyes, but agreed anyways. I easily progressed to the fourth square, with Chad as my third square. Dylan, who, quite frankly, sucked, was in the first square, and we kept him there, because every time he got out we would just keep playing as it was just the four of us. When Dylan managed to get Chad out, I'm pretty sure Chad almost had a fit right there in the driveway. Chuckie laughed, and Sharpay looked up from her tanning.

"Will you boys _please_ keep it down? I am _trying_ to tan!" Sharpay half-yelled.

"Something that takes a lot of thought and skill, I'm sure," Chad shot back.

"Burn," Ryan commented from beside Sharpay. She glowered at him, and he shrugged as if to say "trudat".

"Trudat," Chad said. So maybe Chad and Ryan _were_ capable of getting along.

"You know, it's not even sunny," Dylan remarked. "Why are you trying to tan when there's no sun?"

"You know, if you weren't my boyfriend's little brother, I probably would have–" Sharpay began.

"Shar, why don't you _not_ finish that sentence?" I jumped in quickly. Dylan seemed to have anticipated the end of the sentence, though, because he huffed back into the house in a very bad mood. "Now look what you did!"

"How do you know I was going to say something bad?" she asked.

"Because I know you," I said.

"He's got a point," Ryan said, lazily rolling from the chair he was sitting on and walking towards us. "Why _are_ you trying to tan when there's no sun?" This was not the point I was expecting him to make.

"And if you weren't _my_ brother, I swear to–" Sharpay began.

"Sure you want to finish _that_ sentence?" I asked. Ryan raised an eyebrow at her, and she made a noise.

"You know, Troy, you are darn lucky to have me in your life, and I'm not sure that this can happen any longer," she said.

"Fine by me, Sharpay," I said, resisting the urge to make a Chad joke as I did so.

"Fine," she said, resuming her tanning, "happy now?"

"Maybe," I said. There was silence, and I looked at Ryan to see which side he was going to take in all this. He seemed to be making a difficult decision, but eventually he just walked into the house, completely neutral to the situation. I knew it was hopeless. There was no way he would choose my side, not after the way Chad had acted. He would side with his sister, the way he always did when tough decisions had to be made. My thoughts on the falling out had been correct, albeit not the one I had expected, and it just didn't feel right. I looked at Chad and Chuckie who hadn't moved. I shook my head at them and walked into the house as well. Whether they followed me, I didn't know, because I went straight to my room. It was dark in my room, the way I liked it, with the shades closed and the lights off. I had screwed up this time and I knew it. I couldn't lose Sharpay, could I? That meant losing a lot of status, school wise. If I didn't fix things before school started again, my status was going to take a serious nosedive. And Ryan. After everything that we had done together, I was losing him too. I couldn't lose my friendship with Ryan, could I? There was a knock on my door. "I don't want to talk, guys," I said.

"Actually, it's Ryan. Can I come in?" Ryan asked. I sat up immediately.

"Oh, yeah, sure," I said. He opened the door and came in, sitting down in my desk chair. We didn't hang out too often, but there was something strangely nonchalant about the way he was acting. "What's up, Ry?"

"Alright, Troy," Ryan said. "Now, I don't like you, but I can see how important you are to my sister, and I think there's a way you can straighten things out."

"Not a chance in the world," I said. I was _so_ done with Sharpay.

"Just hear me out," Ryan said. I sighed and looked at him. "You don't have to love her, you don't even have to go out with her, but you do have to be friends, otherwise this week gets very awkward, very fast." I nodded. That was true, of course. "So, you're going to apologize, and you're going to call off your goonies down there."

"My goonies?" I asked, resisting the urge to laugh.

"Chad and Chuckie," he said. "They're hitting on her, and it's not cool."

"Sure, Evans, sure," I said. It wasn't the first time I'd called him by his last name, and it wouldn't be the last, but there was something strange about it.

"I'm so dead serious, Troy," he said.

"I know," I said, even though I didn't really care. Sharpay and I had never been the best of friends, but people expected us to be together, for some reason, ever since we were little. Apparently, we were East Albuquerque's "it" couple. A couple that had recently broken up. There was another knock on the door. "Go away," I called cheerily.

"Dude, my mom's here to pick me up," Chad said from the other side of the door.

"That's nice, Chad. Have a nice day," I said. I heard him walk back down the stairs. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah," Ryan said, "you can stop throwing parties with the people. Sharpay does not find it amusing."

"She seemed to find it pretty amusing when she and Zeke were in the front hall closet for seven minutes," I retorted.

"Yeah, no," Ryan said. "That's just what she needs. Another stupid jock clinging to her night and day."

"I do _not_ cling to her night and day," I protested. "In fact, she won't leave me alone. Ever. I've been trying to get her to leave for months. And I'm not stupid."

"But you're not denying that you're a jock," Ryan said.

"No," I said. "That would be lying."

"And none of the other things are lying?" Ryan asked.

"No, why would they be? They seem pretty consistent with life, don'tcha think?" I asked.

"Yeah, a little. Why do you keep having us over, then?" Ryan asked. He had come to the very question I couldn't answer. I didn't have any plausible reason for continuing to invite them over when their parents went on trips. I didn't not like it when they were over, but I was beginning to realize that maybe it wasn't Sharpay that I really liked. No wait, that couldn't be it. That was just too weird.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe I shouldn't, then." There was a pause, and Ryan didn't say anything. "It's the right thing to do." Ryan didn't have anything to say to that, and I tried not to stare at him, while remembering something that Chad had once said to me about Ryan. It had made me shudder to think of it at the time, but after all, _would_ it be such a bad thing? I came to the conclusion of yes, that would be a very bad thing. But, no, wait, hadn't I just summarized that it was Ryan's company, not Sharpay's, that I enjoyed so much? Yes, that had been it, so it wouldn't be a bad thing. Unless my parents found out. Then there would be hell to pay, and that in and of itself was as good a reason as any to not have them over at all. Although, didn't I remember my mother saying that she positively adored the twins, the way they matched, everything about them? I had a feeling that she wouldn't be too particularly thrilled about…it was almost shuddering to think of, especially at twelve years old.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked me. Evidently I had relapsed into thought for awhile, because he looked truly concerned for my well-being. I thought about telling him right then and there, but I knew it wasn't the time. We were twelve, and I wasn't even sure that the things about Ryan were true.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said.

"Okay then," Ryan said. "I'm going back outside."

"I think I will too," I said. "And, uh, Ryan?" He looked at me. "Don't let what Chad says get to you too much."

"I won't," Ryan said. "Thanks."

**A/N: So. Um, did anyone catch the random Phineas and Ferb reference? Does anyone even know what that is? Okay, so I like this chapter. And…I don't own anything. At all. So, thanks for reading, and please review!! And thank you so much for all…three…of you who reviewed the last chapter!**

**I was going to add a note here about not having to read the Board of Secrets before you read this, but I decided against it.**

**Samantha.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 Monday, August 12, 2002 (**** The same day ****)**

We walked back outside to the side lawn, where Sharpay was still tanning in the sun that wasn't altogether sunny, and Chuckie was sitting in the grass, picking the dandelions out, and popping their heads off.

"Nice day, don't you think?" Chuckie asked, in a fake British accent that almost made me laugh.

"Oh, yes," I said, also adopting a fake British accent. "The clouds are quite fluffy."

"And the sky has probably never been this particular shade of blue before," Chuckie said.

"That cloud looks like Australia," I said.

"Hmm," Chuckie said, studying it, "I do believe you're right. And that one looks like Africa, and that one looks like South America. What in the bloody hell is a map doing up in the clouds?"

"I haven't the foggiest," I said. "Perhaps the sky is telling us we should be studying our geography."

"Ah, yes," Chuckie said. "They did promise us a quiz the day we got back, didn't they?"

"Mm," I said. There was a pause, and I dropped the accent. "I hate school."

"I love school," said Sharpay. "Except for that 'learning' part. That's _gotta_ go."

"Yeah, school would be perfect if it weren't for all those dumb classes," Chuckie said. Chuckie had always gotten along well with the twins, ever since I could remember. Much, much better than Chad ever had. He had been there that day, when Sharpay had basically laid my life in front of me.

**FLASHBACK!!**

_It was the first day of Kindergarten. It was lunchtime, and I was sitting with Chuckie under a tree in the yard, eating a sandwich. We were just talking about whatever. We already knew each other, because we live so close to each other. All of a sudden, two blond beings sauntered up to us._

"_May I help you?" I asked, nicely._

"_I'm going to marry you someday. Please plan your life accordingly," the girl said to me. The boy was standing with his arms crossed and rolled his eyes at this thought._

"_Excuse me?" I asked, still politely, although a little confused. Chuckie was practically dying from the pressure of not bursting into laughter._

"_I said–" the girl began again._

"_No, I heard what you said," I said, quickly, not wanting her to get angry. "It's just…I don't even know you."_

"_I'm Sharpay Amanda Evans," she said. "And someday, we'll be getting married. I'm just letting you know now, so that you can pick out your best man and other grooms people. The colors are going to be pink, purple, and white, and there will be a seven tiered wedding cake, vanilla cake, vanilla frosting. You'll be wearing a white tuxedo, with matching shoes. Our song will be 'All I Ask Of You' from _Phantom of the Opera_. Any questions?"_

"_Um, what?" I said. The boy standing next to her snorted and I looked to stare at him. It was the first time I'd ever met them in my life, and I was wondering what was going on. I was so confused._

"_This is my brother, Ryan," Sharpay said. "He evidently doesn't believe me."_

"_No, I believe you," Ryan said. "I'm telling you, he's never going to go along with this. And plus, he might have cooties."_

"_I don't have cooties!" I protested in a rather whiny voice. "You have cooties."_

"_I do NOT have cooties!" Ryan said, storming off. I watched him leave, feeling bad for having offended him._

"_Don't worry about him," Sharpay said, rolling her eyes. "He's always like that. Anyways, toodles, Troy!" She sauntered off, leaving me more confused than I had been before._

"_How did she know my name?" I asked to the yard at large, not getting an answer._

**END OF FLASHBACK!!**

Somehow, I still hadn't managed to pick out my best man, almost seven years later. I had almost asked Chuckie, right then and there, the day Sharpay proposed to me, but I had still been so confused over the whole ordeal, especially why she had known my name, that I hadn't really gotten around to it.

"Sharpay, were you serious, that day, the first day of kindergarten, when you said we were getting married someday?" I asked.

"Of course," she said. Ryan snorted again, identically to the way he had the first time she had brought it up.

"And how does that work, with us being broken up and all?" I asked, tentatively.

"We broke up? When?" Sharpay asked. I sighed in my head. Ryan rolled his eyes. I figured this was going to happen. I'd been trying to get rid of her for months and she just wouldn't go away.

"Never mind," I said. "Are the colors still pink, purple, and white?"

"Of course," Sharpay said again, still not looking at me. "I'm thinking of changing our song, though. I really like that new Britney Spears song." Ryan rolled his eyes again.

"Which one?" I asked, afraid of the answer. Britney Spears was a scary topic of conversation around Sharpay, like the Spice Girls were around Ryan. It's a very mixed up and confused life.

"'When Your Eyes Say It'. I think it's really pretty," Sharpay said.

"You know that song's not exactly _new_?" Chuckie asked. Sharpay turned her head to look at him. "Yeah, that CD came out, like, two years ago."

"Fine, so it's not new," Sharpay said. "But I still like it."

"What about 'You're Still the One' by Shania Twain," Chuckie asked. "I think that song fits pretty good."

"Mm," Sharpay agreed. "That _is_ a good one." I lost interest in the conversation very quickly, seeing that I wasn't going to have any input on my own wedding, except who I chose for my grooms people, and I assumed that even those would have to pass Sharpay's heavy inspection. I decided upon Chad as my best man, and Chuckie as the next grooms dude, and then Ryan and then Dylan, I supposed. I wasn't exactly sure how many people I was supposed to have, but then Zeke and Jason would be next. Sharpay and Chuckie were still arguing over bad 90's love songs when I dropped back into reality ten minutes later, and Ryan was giving me "Please, dear God, make it stop!" faces, and I just chuckled in my head, because there was nothing I could really do about it at the time. Five minutes later when Sharpay finally had to stop talking to take a breath, I jumped in.

"So, that sounds great. Just email me the date and time when you get, okay?" I said. "Can we do something else?"

"Do you have any idea what we've been discussing for the last twenty minutes?" Sharpay asked. I didn't want to admit that I had actually been listening, and I was thankfully saved from the situation by Dylan storming back out of the house.

"Sharpay, I would like to say that I do _not_ like you," Dylan said.

"Oh, what a coincidence, I don't like you either," Sharpay said.

"It's a truce, then," said Chuckie, who evidently didn't like all the screaming and yelling going on.

"I am running away," Dylan informed us, and I suddenly caught sight of the pack he was holding. It was a piece from his luggage, the wheeled one. I jumped up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, quickly, moving towards Dylan. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Why don't you just go hide in the tree house?"

"Duh, Troy, where do you think I was going to go?" Dylan asked me. I was confused by this statement. If he was going to hide in the tree house, why on earth had he picked a wheeled piece of luggage? And shouldn't he have come out the other door?

"Okay," I said, "I'll bring you lunch in a while."

"I'm leaving," Dylan said, glaring at Sharpay. "Bye!" Dylan waved and set off around the back of the house in the direction of the tree house.

"Bye, Dylan!" Chuckie called after him. "Anyways, Sharpay already set a date, didn't she?"

"Of course," Sharpay said, "June 15, 2013." I looked up into the sky as I attempted to do some math.

"That _is_ a Saturday," Ryan informed me. "She made me look it up."

"You get married on Saturdays?" I asked. "I thought you got married on Sundays."

"You can't get married on Sunday, that's God's day," Ryan explained. "Unless you're Jewish. You're not Jewish, are you?"

"I don't think so," I said. "How do I tell?"

"Well, are you Jewish?" Chuckie asked.

"No," I said, not sure where they were going with this.

"Then, odds are, you're not Jewish," Chuckie said.

"Oh, okay," I said, still very confused. "But what if I'm busy that day?"

"That's why you've been given 11 years to think about it," Sharpay said.

"Ah," was all I could think of to say.

"I'm hungry," Ryan said, suddenly.

"That's different," I said. Chuckie nodded. I looked up at the sun, and then down at my wrist and sighed. "Okay, what time is it?"

"No idea," Ryan said. There was suddenly a scream from inside the house.

"DYLAN!!" my mother screamed. She suddenly came running out the door nearest us, brandishing a note. "Dylan ran away!" Sharpay burst into laughter, making my mother frown.

"Yeah, we saw him," I said. "I'm not supposed to tell you where he went, but if I were you, the tree house would be a good place to start looking."

"Oh, so he's safe?" my mother said, attempting to calm herself and failing abysmally.

"Troy promised to bring him lunch," Chuckie said. "I'm sure he'll be fine." If there was one person in the entire world that my mother liked even more than the twins, it was definitely Chuckie.

"Oh, okay," my mother said. "Don't scare me like that again. Thank you, Chuck."

"You're welcome, Mrs. B," Chuckie said. My mother started back into the house, but I called after her.

"Out of curiosity, when's lunch?" I asked.

"Soon," she replied, reaching the door and disappearing into the house.

"Well, that could have gone worse," Ryan remarked, settling back into his lawn chair.

"Oh, yeah, sure," I said. "We could have let him actually run away."

"Yeah, that would have been a shame," Sharpay said. I frowned at her.

"Sharpay, don't take that tone about my brother," I said. "You could at least _try_ to get along every now and then. Like Chad and Ryan."

"Yeah, because we get along so well," Ryan muttered.

"Sometimes," I said. "And sometimes you're real jerks to each other, but you _are_ capable of getting along." Ryan muttered something about stupid jocks and went back to staring at the sky. There was no way in the world Ryan liked me. Even if I was as conceited as everyone thought I was, I wouldn't have believed it. He never really wanted to be at my house. He simply came because he had to, and because he followed Sharpay everywhere like an oversized poodle. I still needed to have a general heart-to-heart with Chuckie, even though it wasn't the best idea in the world. "You know, it's not my _fault_ I gave you the chicken pox," I continued, trying to get on Ryan's good side, which was a lot better than his bad side; the side that hardly anyone ever saw, but I knew it was there. "My mom really shouldn't have let Sharpay over here. And you'd think your mom would have more sense."

"Well, thanks to you, she does now," Sharpay said. "And you gave _me_ the chicken pox, and I gave them to Ryan." Ryan, still staring skyward, muttered something about oatmeal and a sink, but it wasn't really audible. "That's gross, Ry."

"That's what happened," Ryan said, but Sharpay just scoffed and turned her attention back to me.

"Okay," said Chuckie, attempting to mediate the conversation, "it doesn't really matter anymore. Forgive and forget."

"Something, something, something, no day but today?" Ryan asked.

"Still on a RENT kick, I see," Sharpay said.

"It's addictive," Ryan said. I'd never heard of this RENT they kept speaking of, but it didn't really matter. I was hungry and no amount of sun and Evans was going to stop me from eating lunch.

"I'm going to lunch," I announced, getting up and walking towards the house.

"I'll come with you," Chuckie said, following suit, and leaving the twins staring at the sky with the clouds shaped like continents.

Upon my arrival in the kitchen, I sat down at the table in the semi-gloom that is a room when you come in from a bright sunshiny day. Chuckie sat down as well and stared at the food in front of him on the table.

"What's up, Chuck?" I said. Chuckie looked both ways for my parents, while I helped myself to a sandwich. The coast was apparently clear.

"Do you like Ryan?" he asked. I almost choked on my sandwich, but swallowed it.

"What would make you say that? Especially somewhere where people could _hear_ you?" I asked.

"Come on, Troy," Chuckie said, "you two are totally made for each other."

"That's not something you would say," I said, confused. "You're supposed to say something along the lines of 'never gonna happen, Troy, get over it'."

"Well, that's not very optimistic, now, is it?" he said.

"No, but it's realistic," I said, "considering the fact that I like _girls_."

"Fine," Chuckie said, giving me that face that a gay guy gives another gay guy when they're in denial.

"I am _not_ in denial!" I said.

"You watch too much TV," he replied.

"Do not," I said, scowling.

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not times infinity."

"Do too times infinity and one."

"Do not times infinity to the infinitieth power."

"Plus one."

"Plus two."

"Plus 18,000."

"Plus one."

"Plus four."

"Plus eighty."

"Plus one."

"Plus sixty four and a half."

"Plus infinity."

"Plus infinity and six."

"Plus one."

"Plus 18,000."

"What were we talking about?" Chuckie asked.

"I don't know," I said, taking another bite of sandwich.

"Do you, like, like Ryan?" Chuckie asked.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" I asked.

"I'm not sure, especially because it's obvious I'm not going to get a straight answer," he said. "So, I'm going to assume you're hiding something, and I'm also going to assume that–" My mom walked into the kitchen and he stopped talking abruptly.

"Hey mom," I said. "I was hungry, so we started eating. Hope that's okay."

"Yeah, whatever," my mom said, "help yourself. And don't forget to feed your brother." She grabbed a drink from the fridge and went back into the living room.

"I'm also going to assume that you actually _do_," Chuckie continued.

"I don't," I whined. "I like _girls_, remember?"

"Oh that's right," Chuckie said. "Are you sure?" I nodded. "Sure you are. So you're not saying that you like Ryan more than you like Sharpay?"

"Of course I like Ryan more than I like Sharpay," I said, without thinking. "What kind of question is that? And who doesn't?"

"Chad," Chuckie said simply.

"Chad hates the both of them," I said. Chuckie raised his eyebrows. "Right?"

"You'd be surprised," he said. I tried in vain to get some more answers out of him, but he wouldn't say another word. Eventually, I just gave up and he finally said, "I've got to get home sometime. I can walk, and I'll be fine, by the way." He lives across the street.

After taking some sandwiches out to Dylan, I sat back down on the lawn with Sharpay and Ryan, who were thoroughly ignoring my presence.

"Did you guys want some food? Cuz there's plenty…" I said to them.

"I'm not hungry," Sharpay said. Ryan didn't say anything. He was just humming and staring at the sky. "Did you feed your brother?"

"Yeah, he's fine," I said. "Did you feed yours?"

"He'll eat when he wants to," Sharpay said. "You should know him well enough to know that." I nodded. I did know him quite well. But not _that_ well. And I certainly didn't want to like…date him. That's just weird. Weirder than awkward. Just…not right, in a sense. Maybe Chuckie could cast some light on the situation.

"You look like you're contemplating something very hard," Ryan said.

"Not really," I said. "Chuckie thinks I'm in denial."

"About what?" Sharpay said.

"Nothing," I said. "It doesn't matter." It isn't denial anyways. I'm just very selective in the reality I choose to accept. I read too much Calvin and Hobbes. That's my problem. A mischievous six year old and his stuffed tiger were making me have gay thoughts about my girlfriend's brother.

"I told you so!" came the yell from across the street, as if Chuckie could read my thoughts.

"Shut up!" I yelled back.

"Told you so what?" Sharpay asked.

"Nothing," I repeated. "It doesn't matter." Ryan went back to humming and staring at the clouds. "Penny for your thoughts," I told him.

"The dish and the spoon for instance, they're down on their luck, they come knocking on my doghouse door, and I said, 'Not in my backyard utensils, go back to China!'," he said. Sharpay actually laughed at this.

"That's very interesting," Sharpay said. "I don't think Troy has any idea what you're talking about." I shook my head.

"Not a one," I said. "So, what are you guys planning for your musical this year?"

"I think we're doing that new one," Sharpay said, very descriptively. "About those people…you know."

"Oh, yeah, that one," Ryan agreed. He seemed to know exactly what she was talking about, but couldn't cast any more light on the situation. "Did I hear something about food?" I nodded, and he went into the house to grab some food, giving me an opportunity to talk to Sharpay.

"Look, Sharpay, I already told you, I don't think we should be together right now," I said.

"Troy, I already told you, it doesn't matter what you think," she said. "But if you really think we shouldn't be together right now, then fine. It's done. We're officially separated. Feel free to date plenty of other people. I will too."

"Really?" I asked. "This isn't going to be like in April, when we had this conversation, but then it turns out you were joking, is it?" I asked. She shook her head.

"I pinky swear you, that we are done with, Troy Bolton," she said, holding out her pinky for me to swear on. We did, and it seemed a little childish, but then, so are relationships.

"Wow, thanks, Sharpay," I said. "Can you excuse me for a moment?" She nodded, and I ran across the street as quickly as I could, mindful of the non-existent traffic. I banged on Chuckie's door. No answer. "Chuckie, open the door." Nothing. "Charles Patrick Brown, I know you're in there and I'll break down this door if I have to!!" Still no answer. I tried the doorknob. Unlocked. I felt dumb all of sudden. I stomped up the stairs to Chuckie's room and threw open the door to find him sitting on his bed, calmly reading a book. He looked up when he heard his door slam against the wall.

"Oh, did you figure out it was unlocked?" he asked.

"Not funny, Chuck," I said. "Guess what?"

"Chicken butt?" he said.

"I'm being serious, here," I said.

"So was I," he retorted.

"No, but you're never going to believe this," I said.

"Oh my God! You told Ryan that you like him and now you're going out!" Chuckie exclaimed happily.

"What? No," I said. "No! I broke up with Sharpay!"

"Really?" he asked, skeptically. "Or like you broke up with her in April, or like you broke up with her earlier today?"

"No, like I really broke up with her," I said. "She told me to see other people."

"Wow," Chuckie said, contemplating this news. "You don't suppose…"

"It's some kind of sick joke?" I asked. "I don't think so. At least, I hope not. We pinky swore. I'll probably still have to marry her, at any rate. Would being gay get me out of that?"

"Well, it's kind of a big commitment," Chuckie said, sitting up and putting his book on his nightstand. "Do you just want to get out of the wedding, or do you really like guys?"

"I don't know!" I exclaimed. "You're not making this any easier."

"Trust me, I know," he said. "Do you think I should spike my hair?"

"That seems kind of…" I cast around for the right word.

"Gay?" Chuckie supplied.

"I was going for childish," I said. "That one guy on the football team does it though."

"Uh, Troy?" he said. I looked at him. He was giving me "that face".

"Are you…jeez, do you people just grow on trees or something?" I asked.

"Well, we are a fruity lot," he said. (**A/N: Worst gay joke **_**ever**_**.**)

"Okay, _that_ was gay," I remarked.

"Anyways, back to the problem at hand," he reminded me.

"Right," I said. "How would I know I was gay?"

"Well, with me, I just _knew_," he tried to explain. "It's like I've always known. And then there was this one time, at a birthday party for that girl who lives across the street from Jason, when you were sick that one time, when I ended up in a closet with a girl."

"That ironic," I remarked. "What happened?"

"Nothing. We…well…why am I telling you this?" he asked. I shrugged. "Anyways, it did not turn out well. I blamed you, saying you got me sick, and went home."

"Oh, sure, _I_ got you sick," I said. "I'm sure that's not true."

"No, but that's when it was official," he said. "Because I wasn't sick. No fever, no nausea, no irregular bodily functions, nothing. I just didn't like girls."

"But I _do_ like girls," I whined. "I've kissed Sharpay before, and I never had a problem! And all the time when we play spin the bottle. Is that why you never play spin the bottle?" Chuckie nodded. "Well, then, I promise that someday we will live in a much more accepting world where you can play Spin the Bottle without being judged."

"Thanks," he replied. "But back to you. So you like girls. Do you like guys?"

"No," I said immediately.

"Think about it," Chuckie said. My thoughts drifted out Chuckie's window to my lawn, where Ryan and Sharpay were sitting. "And Ryan probably doesn't count in this scenario. What about the other guys?" I swiveled my thoughts to Chad, Zeke, Jason, Jared, Michael, and the other guys on the basketball team. I shook my head. None of them appealed to me.

"None of the guys," I said. "They don't appeal to me." Chuckie thought for a moment.

"What about me?" he asked. There was a rather uncomfortable silence in the room, and I could tell he regretted those words. I took them anyways, and looked him up and down. There was something about him that I couldn't put my finger on exactly.

"Chuckie," I asked suddenly, "why were you hitting on Sharpay?" He shrugged.

"Isn't that what jocks do?" he replied. "Um…are you going to answer the other question?"

"I was thinking about it," I said. There was a long silence while I pondered the question some more. We were both sitting on his bed; he was at the head board, and I was at the foot. I flopped back across the bed, so that my head was falling off one side, and my legs were dangling off the other. "I don't know, Chucks. That's a little weird."

"So, you do?" he asked.

"Dare I say you sound…hopeful?" I asked. "Do you like me?"

"No!" he said quickly again. "No, no, no!"

"Now look who's in denial," I teased, sticking my tongue out at the ceiling.

"You didn't answer my question, Troy," Chuckie said, coming into my field of vision. "Do you like me?" I stared up at him.

"I don't know," I repeated. "Maybe. Why are you being so insistent?"

"Maybe I like you too," he said.

"Awkward," I said.

"No kidding," he said. Neither of us moved for several moments, neither of us sure what to do. I don't even remember who initiated it, but suddenly we had kissed, and all I could think was that I was happy I had shut the door when I had walked in.

**A/N: OMG. That is my only comment on this chapter. OMG. That's it. Oh, and I don't own anything.**

**So, thanks for reading, and please, please, PLEASE!! review. It makes me oh-so-happy. A lot happy. Mucho happy.**

**Samantha.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four Monday, August 12, 2002 (**** Still that same day. ****)**

"Um, dude, what just happened?" I asked.

"I don't know," he confessed. "I got so caught up in the moment, and your eyes…they're all pretty and blue and stuff."

"So, you _do_ have a crush on me," I deduced.

"Just a little bit," he said, scooting to the very far side of the bed. I sat up as well, turning to face him, but remaining on the bed. "I'm sorry?"

"It's okay," I said. "I don't hate you."

"Um, thanks?" he said.

"No. I don't know. I…wow. I don't think I've ever been this confused," I said.

"Join the club," Chuckie said, bitterly.

"So you like me," I stated. Chuckie nodded timidly.

"It's just physical. I think. Um, is that okay? I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't, but I do, and that's why I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you would hate me, but I didn't know what to do, and so I panicked, and then I–" I silenced his rambling with a finger to his lips.

"Chuckie. It's okay," I said. "It might even be a good thing."

"How could this possibly be a good thing?" Chuckie asked. In all fairness, he did have a point.

"Because now I've got the perfect reason to find out if I'm gay or not," I said, grinning a little too widely.

"No, Troy," he said. "If there is one thing I've learned form TV, it is that I'm not going to be some guy's experiment."

"Then how are you going to get rid of your crush?" I asked, logically.

"I don't know!" he replied.

"What would you do if I just left and never spoke to you again?" I asked.

"I don't know, Troy," he said. "But we can't. We can _not_."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because what if my little crush turns into actual feelings?" he asked.

"What if it turns out I'm harboring some feelings for you?" I retorted.

"But you're not!" he practically yelled.

"How do you know?" I shot back.

"We know these things, Troy," he said. "It's called a 'gaydar'. We can tell. And any gay feelings you might be harboring at all are all festered in the direction of one blond haired, blue eyed, Ryan Evans."

"Prove it," I challenged. This challenge was not such a good idea on my part, but him agreeing to it was even dumber on his part. He grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me in for another kiss. Okay, so what was I feeling? A mixture of awkwardness, and adrenaline, mostly. I was sitting in my best friend's house. Kissing him. Him. That was the awkward part. The adrenaline was coming from the fact that my body seemed to be thinking the kiss was really hot, and it should be turned on. I pushed him away, but not aggressively, and not rudely. I could tell he wanted more, and it was a little sad. "How in hell was that supposed to help anything?"

"I don't know," Chuckie admitted. "But I liked it."

"Okay. Weirdly enough, me too," I said. There was a pause. "We should definitely stop doing that."

"Sounds good," he said. My thoughts wandered out the window again, where Sharpay and Ryan were tanning in my yard. "You're thinking about him."

"I know," I said. "They're my thoughts."

"I think it's cute," he remarked. "You _so_ like him."

"Yeah, I do," I said. There was a very long awkward silence after I said these words. I cleared my throat several more times than was necessary. "I mean…what?"

"You _do_ like him! I was right," Chuckie said.

"Chad doesn't owe you any money, does he, because this is beyond weird," I asked. Chuckie shook his head.

"I think it's honorable," Chuckie said, "how you can sit here in my room doing…that…and still be thinking about him." There was a silence, in which I didn't say anything. "So, um, while we were doing…that…were-were…um, were you thinking about him?"

"I don't know, Chuck," I said. "I shouldn't have to deal with this right now. I'm only twelve!"

"Well, I'm only eleven!" he protested.

"Yeah, well, you're Chuckie. I'm Troy Bolton! And I'm only twelve. I shouldn't have to deal with this right now," I repeated.

"Yeah, well, there's no time like the present," he said. "But how can you not know?"

"Simple as that, I don't know!" I said. "I don't know. I don't remember."

"Try," he challenged. I thought back to the kiss(es). This whole general situation was awkward enough without adding them into the mix.

"Um, I guess not," I said. "I guess I was right here with you in the moment."

"So you like me too?" he asked, again getting a little hopeful.

"I don't know, maybe," I said, defensively.

"There's no right or wrong answer, Troy. There's no black and white. There are shades of gray," Chuckie said.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked, not understanding a word of what he was saying.

"I mean, you don't have to be totally gay," he said. "Some people are just gay for that one special person."

"Bisexuals?" I supplied.

"Exactly," he said. "Or, in your case, Ryan-sexual."

"I am _not_ Ryan-sexual," I declared.

"Suit yourself," he said. "But if you're not Ryan-sexual, and you like him, and you like girls, then what does that make you?"

"Confused as all holy hell," I said. Chuckie laughed a little, even though it was a serious conversation.

"It is a bit of a snafu, isn't it?" he asked.

"Snafu?" I puzzled.

"Situation Normal All F'ed Up," he said

"Ah," I said. I couldn't think of anything else to say. My thoughts wandered to my front lawn again.

"You want to have him," Chuckie said, very insightfully.

"Have him?" I asked.

"Yeah. Like _have him_ have him," he clarified.

"I do _not_!" I protested. There may have been something telling me that it was true. "Okay, maybe. Okay, yes. But I can't have him."

"Why not?" Chuckie asked, incredulously.

"Because _he_ likes _girls_! He's straight!" I exclaimed. "And he hates my guts."

"Well, he may hate your guts," Chuckie said, "but that kid is most definitely _not_ straight. At least, not completely."

"Please tell me you're joking," I said. "You didn't already get to him, too?"

"What? No," he said. "It's the gaydar. We can tell."

"What is this stupid gaydar thing you keep talking about?" I asked.

"Well," he began, "it's like this thing that's part of your entity. Everyone has one, but most straight guys never learn how to use them properly. It's like this thing that lets you tell if someone's straight or gay, or whatever. Most girls are pretty adept at it, actually."

"Oh, great, another reason to avoid them," I grumbled to myself.

"Did you just make a remark about women, Troy?" he asked me. "Did you just make a remark against women? I really am converting you fast, aren't I?"

"Don't even _think_ it," I said.

"Anyways," he continued, "Ryan's so definitely not straight, he's probably breaking his own gaydar, and that's hard to do."

"Can you use your gaydar on yourself?" I asked. Chuckie shrugged. "I suppose you wouldn't have to, I guess. How does the gaydar help you tell if I'm harboring secret gay feelings, for you or otherwise?" He shrugged again.

"Sometimes we just _know_," he said.

"So who gave you all the lessons in 'gay'?" I asked. He pointed to the corner of his room where one of those old Macs that you could get in all the colors was sitting. His was turquoise. "You have an Apple? Ew. Anyways, but seriously, the internet? How much of that stuff is reliable?"

"A lot of it," he said. "And then you can get this little gift basket, with lotions and pamphlets on color and matching and hair and makeup…"

"Dude," I said.

"…and lube and a box of condoms," he said.

"Please dear God tell me you are joking and that there's not a box of condoms sitting somewhere in this room with a pamphlet on makeup and colors," I begged.

"Why shouldn't I have a box of condoms sitting in my room somewhere with a pamphlet on makeup and colors?" Chuckie asked.

"Because you're eleven. We haven't even gotten 'the talk' in school yet," I said. "And because you're a guy, and guys don't wear makeup, and because…just _because_. That's why. So just tell me you're joking, because there are so many things wrong with that." Chuckie just smiled mysteriously.

"You do realize you've been over here for, like, two hours," he said. I jumped.

"How was I supposed to know? I'm not wearing a watch! Why didn't you tell me? Sharpay's been waiting for me? She's going to be so mad. Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded a second time. Chuckie shrugged.

"It didn't seem important," he said. "Anyways, 1on1, tomorrow morning, your house. Be there or be…um…"

"Square?" I supplied.

"I was going for beware, I think," he said. "Is it weird that I completely lose my train of thought when you stare at me?"

"A little," I said. "Thanks for telling me, though. I'll use that to my advantage. Bye, Chuckie!"

"Bye, Troy," he said, as I left his room. I didn't feel very satisfied with myself, or with anything we had discussed in his room, and I was _not_ gay. I could _not_ be gay. What would my parents think? Oh, dear. But I couldn't be. And therefore, I wasn't. Simple as that. Did I or did I _not_ just kiss a guy? Okay, that's a little gay. A little gay? Try a _lot_ gay. Great job, idiot. What were you thinking? Hey, _he_ started it! Oh, give me a break, we both know you started the first one, and the second one was practically your fault anyways. I did _not_ start the first one.

"Hey, Troy, what's up?" Ryan asked when I got back to my yard.

"Um, I'm arguing with myself in my head," I said, not thinking about what I was saying, as I was still immersed in my arguing thoughts. You did _too_ start the first one. Did not! Did too! Did not! Did too! I let my thoughts go on like that for a while and lapsed back into reality.

"Where were you?" Sharpay asked. "I was about to call the cops."

"Oh, I was just over at Chuckie's," I said. "I had to…talk to him."

"Sure," she said. "Whatever. Your brother said it was cold, so he went back inside and is using the attic as a hideout now."

"It's _cold_?" I asked in disbelief. "It's August for crying out loud."

"He was in a tree," Ryan said. "I'm sure that accounts for some kind of neuroticism."

"Did you just imply my brother was neurotic?" I asked.

"Maybe," he said.

"Fine, well, I think the same thing about your sister," I said.

"We already knew that," he said. "And I think she knows it too."

"Knows what?" Sharpay asked.

"Exactly," Ryan said. Sharpay rolled her eyes and sunk back into her chair.

The rest of the day went okay, I guess. We didn't really do anything. After dinner, Ryan kicked my ass at PlayStation, and Sharpay did her…whatever it was that she did with all her beauty products.

"Why does she need so many beauty products?" I asked Ryan, my eyes still fixed on the TV.

"No idea," Ryan said. "And the weirdest thing is they're all different and have a different purpose."

"Insane," I said. Ryan's character in the game shot mine, and it died. "Okay, good game. You win. I'm bored."

"Cool, it's almost bedtime anyway," he said. There was a pause while neither of us said anything, and then we both got up and went upstairs. I went into my room, and Ryan went into the guest room that he and Sharpay shared. Normally, I offered to share my bedroom, but he always refused. Sleep did not come easily, being interspersed with dreams about Ryan, and on occasion, a very angry Sharpay.

Not that dreams like that were a new things for me. I constantly had dreams about the twins. There was always some kind of struggle in the dreams, and then I had to make some very big choice, and I always chose door number two, but I always woke up before I could see if I was right. They were kind of annoying dreams, but they could have been worse. They could have been scary dreams, or wet dreams, or (gasp) sticky dreams, or any other type of dreams that a twelve year old could have. It was just some kind of recurring dream, which meant it had to mean something, right? The only problem was, if I told anyone about it, especially my parents, they'd just send me straight to a psychologist. And that was one place I did not want to go.

**A/N: I'm **_**really**_** sorry about the length of this chapter, in comparison to the last chapter, but it was all that fit slash I wanted to put in this chapter. More bad news: I can't update any sooner than planned, because I may or may not be going to Vermont, and there's this whole long and involved story. For anyone who doesn't know, Vermont is, like, four states over from here, so it's kind of far away, but I promise to update as soon as I get back. But, on a better note, I get to drive, and I'm excited.**

**Anyways, the good news is that this chapter is up now, and plus I'm going to be writing in the hotel room, so there'll be more. And, I don't own anything. Ever. Thanks for reading, and please review! It'll make me happy in Vermont!**

**Samantha.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 Tuesday, August 13, 2002 (****The next day ****)**

After a very healthy breakfast of Toaster Strudel and strawberries, I sat on the steps of my house. I was watching the front door to Chuckie's house, waiting for it to open. It did, eventually, and Chuckie came streaking across his lawn, the road (South Park Avenue), and up my driveway. Maybe streaking is the wrong word. He was definitely clothed, a fact for which I was thankful.

"Word up," Chuckie said, throwing a basketball at me. "Let's do this." I caught the basketball and got to my feet.

"I'm going to own you," I warned.

"Not sure I would mind," Chuckie retorted absently. "Did I just say that out loud?"

"Yeah, a little," I said.

"Oh," he said, "sorry."

"It's fine," I said. "Are we going to play this game or not?" We played a game, and I won, of course, even without using the fact that Chuckie can't remember his train of thought when I stare at him to my advantage.

"Can't believe you won," he said, panting.

"Oh, please," I said. "No one's beat me this millennium."

"That's not true!" Chuckie said. "Chad beat you just last week."

"Whatever," I responded.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"For kissing you yesterday," he said. "Look, I'm sorry. I know, I shouldn't have done it–"

"No," I interrupted. "You should have. You saw someone you liked, and you kissed them. People who see people they like and don't kiss them…those people are stupid. I hate those people."

"You are those people," Chuckie said.

"I know!" I said. "I know. I know. Okay? I know."

"You know?" he asked, incredulously. "Yesterday you were in denial, and now, all of a sudden, you _know_?"

"You said it was true, didn't you?" I asked. "And you're probably right, right?"

"I could be wrong," Chuckie said, hesitantly. "Come on, let's play another game." We played another game, and my head was not in it, and…(gasp)…I lost. I know.

"Good game," I said.

"You lost and I won. Nanananananananabooboo," Chuckie teased, dancing a bit around the court with the basketball. "They said it couldn't be done, but I did it. Nananananananananabooboo."

"What does that even mean?" I asked. Chuckie shrugged.

"No idea. My mom says it all the time," he said. I rolled my eyes. It was still pretty early in the morning. You know how when you're younger, you can never get up on time for school, but on the days you don't have school you're up at least an hour before you'd ever even _think_ about being up for school? It's kind of like that. It was like 9am.

"It's a change from the norm, at least," I said. "Usually they just gloat. Look at you, you're positively dancing."

"Yeah, I am," he retorted. "'Ryan' enough for ya?"

"No," I said. "Why would it be?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "So, what's on the agenda for the rest of the day?"

"Well, 1) wait for Dylan to get up, 2) get him to 'accidentally' wake up the twins, 3) call Chad for damage control, 4) kick his butt at basketball, 5) research stuff on the internet, 6) make sure–" I began.

"What kind of stuff?" Chuckie interrupted, sitting on the grass.

"Oh, you know, just stuff," I said, also sitting.

"Any chance having to do with…sexual orientations?" Chuckie asked. _Damn, he's perceptive._

"Maybe," I said.

"I could tell you, but you wouldn't take that for an answer, would you?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said. "Look, I'm pretty sure I am, right? I mean, I've got this ginormous crush on my ex-girlfriend's brother, and I kissed a guy yesterday. Twice. That doesn't make me very straight."

"But, you _do_ like girls," Chuckie protested. "I mean, Sharpay for one. And what about that other girl…?"

"Yeah, and her," I said. "But, I mean…it's Ryan. Ryan. I just like saying his name. Ryan. _Ryan_. Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. Ryan!"

"I know his name," Chuckie said. "And hopefully, he's still asleep."

"But he doesn't seem very gay to me," I said. "He can't even figure out what Sharpay does with all her beauty products."

"Can anyone?" Chuckie retorted. "Come on, I'm telling you, he is."

"Whatever, man," I said. "So, how are you?"

"Fine," he grumbled.

"You don't sound fine," I said. "You want me to stop talking about Ryan so much, don't you?"

"Don't care," he said.

"I think you do," I protested. "You care a lot. Otherwise, why would I propose what I'm about to propose?"

"What are you about to propose?" he asked, suddenly interested. I had been thinking about it.

"Well, I'll go out with you," I said. He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. "And I won't talk about Ryan. I won't think about Ryan. It'll be _you_, and we can see what's up with _you_ first, and then we can deal with my serious problems. Sound like it'll work?"

"No," Chuckie said.

"No, it won't work, or, no, you won't do it?" I asked.

"No, I won't do it," Chuckie said. "I told you yesterday, I'm not going to be your experiment, Troy."

"But you're not," I said. "You won't be. Can't you see that?"

"Can't you see how awkward it would be if we broke up?" he retorted. "We live across the street from each other, we go to the same school, we're on the same basketball team…we do _everything_ together."

"But that's the reason it'll be easy to keep whatever we do a secret," I said. "We do _everything_ together. Why not do some more things together?"

"No, Troy, and that's final," he said, standing up to leave. I caught his arm.

"Please?" I said, looking right at him. He stared at me for a while. Then, he looked away, and pulled his arm out of my grasp.

"No," he said. "See you later."

"Please?!" I called after him again.

"Maybe," he responded, turning around to look at me. "If it'll get you off my back."

"When?" I asked.

"You think about what you're really asking me to do," he said. "What you're asking yourself to do. Then, maybe."

"How long do I think?" I asked, pondering the moment.

"A while," he said. "Maybe a few days, weeks, months, even years, if you need it." He crossed the street and went back into his own house. I sat on the grass beside my house for a few minutes, and then Ryan walked sleepily out the door, holding some Toaster Strudel.

"How can you possibly be awake at a time like this?" he asked me, yawning.

"I was playing basketball," I said. "We always do."

"Yeah, well, it's too early to be outside. The sun's too bright. Come back inside," Ryan said. I got up, and followed him back inside my house. My thoughts lingered a little longer than I would have liked on him, as I did so.

For the rest of the day, I stayed inside. Sharpay graced us with her presence around eleven-thirty, and she demanded lunch immediately. I felt bad for her servants at the house, and even worse when Ryan immediately jumped up to prepare it for her. It was my house, I should have been doing it, but she always seemed to have that weird effect on him, like he was just a walking, talking accessory, or a poodle, or a servant of hers. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, but each time I even thought about considering talking to Ryan about it, the need was quashed by something else.

The afternoon was spent however Sharpay saw fit. Unfortunately, it involved watching some old musicals that she had brought with her. When my mom and Dylan returned home (I hadn't even noticed they had gone), they were carrying gifts of dinner, in the form of take-out Chinese. We watched some movies, and ate in the living room.

"This movie won three Academy Awards," Sharpay said, "and four Golden Globes. Notice how the director is cleverly off-centering the main character here, because he has to hide another camera over there. There must be at least eleven cameras shooting this shot. Notice how the actress doesn't even acknowledge the cameras' presence. She instead focuses all her energy on the actor. He's pretty cute. I think I saw him in another film that one time. Remember, Ryan? He was playing that really dorky guy, and there was a ton of special effects? Yeah, that was a good movie. Wasn't it directed by that other guy who also– Ooh! Here's my favorite part! The director has shrewdly used a wide angle lens for this…" It went on and on. Ryan started giving me "Dear God, make it stop" faces again, but there was nothing I could do. The best advice I had was to simply tune her out. It wasn't easy.

My thoughts drifted to who on earth she would choose as her next boyfriend. After dating me (on and off) for…a really long time, it would be an interesting change of pace for her to see someone else. All the guys at school would be fawning after her, as usual, and when they found out she was single…it wasn't going to be pretty.

When finally Thursday came (I was beginning to think it wouldn't come fast enough), the twins left, saying they wouldn't need to use our "facilities" again for the rest of the summer. It was a shame, really.

The rest of the summer was very long and prolonged. I had basically nothing to do, except play whatever dumb games Dylan came up for us to play. One of them was Harry Potter. He even let me be Harry. It was cool. He opted for being Neville, and we "fought crime" together in the backyard, brandishing sticks as weapons. Childish, I know, but hey, we were kids. When mom and dad made us put the sticks down ("You'll poke someone's eye out!"), we played with squirt guns, until mom and dad told us that if we were going to super soak the entire house, we might as well get some soap and wash it too. Then, we opted for Harry Potter "lessons" inside the house. We did this…basically all summer when I wasn't playing basketball, or hanging out with the guys. I know I was a kid and I was supposed to enjoy summer, but I really couldn't wait for school to start. I was getting sick of reruns, anyway.

A week before school started again, my mom took me and Dylan school supply shopping at the mall. She also bought us new clothes, and the whatnot. I mention it because you'll never guess who we ran into there. Oh, right, the Evans' twins.

"Hi, kids," my mom said to them. Sharpay sent her a look like "Who are you, and why are you talking to me?". "What are you two doing here?"

"We're shopping," Sharpay answered. "Obvi."

"Oh, that's what we're doing as well," my mom said. "Are you here with your parents?"

"Not exactly," Sharpay said. Ryan frowned at a small spot on the floor.

"Who are you with?" I asked, dreading the answer. Just then, Chad and his older brother, Nathan, came walking over to us.

"Hey Troy," Chad said. "What'cha doing here?"

"Shopping," Dylan replied. "Why are you here?"

"Shopping," Chad said.

"You hate shopping," I said.

"No, I don't," Chad said. "What are you talking about?"

"Sharpay…" Ryan said from behind Sharpay, but she silenced him with a hand.

"Chad, honey, come on, we still have to get to Penney's before lunch," she said, grabbing Chad's hand.

"Whoa!" I said. "Chad, can I talk to you for a sec? Over here? Now?!" Chad followed me over to behind a potted plant. "You brought her _shopping_? When did you even start going out?"

"When she offered to come with me school shopping and pay for whatever I wanted," Chad said. "Dude, chillax. You never really liked her."

"That was you!" I said. There was insane jealously springing from somewhere that I couldn't place.

"Dude, seriously, you are blind," Chad said, leaving and walking back over to his brother and the twins. "Let's go." I walked over to them as well, before they left, and pulled Sharpay a few feet to the side.

"If this is your weird, insane way of getting me back, you've failed, because I am not jealous," I lied.

"Oh, please," Sharpay said. "You're practically chartreuse with jealousy."

"No, I'm not," I said. "Because we're over. Done with. Okay?"

"I know," Sharpay said, throwing her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and taking Chad by the hand. The four of them left without another word, except for Ryan turned around and shrugged at me, before Sharpay yelled, "Ryan!" and he ran off to follow her.

"What just happened?" Dylan asked me.

"I have no idea," I said. "Where's mom?"

"She went into Borders," Dylan said. "She said to meet her there when we were done chatting."

"And you decided to stay and watch?" I asked, incredulously.

"Hey, there could have been a fight," he said.

"Yeah, right," I said. "This is a mall, not an alley in New York."

"Whatever," he said. The both of us walked around the corner to find our mom and get out of there as quickly as possible. Chad was going out with Sharpay? Wasn't there some kind of rule that said he had to ask my permission to do that? Maybe I was overreacting. He wasn't really out with her. She had asked him shopping, and he had said yes. They were out on a date. That didn't mean they were date-_ing_. Did it? I was definitely over thinking this. And why should I even care? I wasn't interested in her. Why shouldn't someone else have her? Am I really that conceited that I think that Sharpay can't be out with someone else? But it's my best friend! Why does it have to be my best friend? Why am I talking to myself in my head? I have no idea.

**A/N: Yeah, so there's Chapter 5 (I think). Sorry about the slight delay in the update pattern. I was in Vermont, and then I was at my Grandmother's and then I was at this camp we bought on this lake. It was cool to have the break from the computer in Vermont, but being within 15 miles of your computer and not being able to use it is infuriating.**

**I own diddily-squat. Thanks for reading, and please review! It makes me happy! **

**Samantha.**

**(PS…I got more story ideas in Vermont. Driving for nine hours gives me random inspiration. Unfortunately, none of that inspiration was on this story. But no worries, I have plenty of this story yet to come.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six Wednesday, August 28, 2002 (**** The first day of school ****)**

So, you've probably been a seventh grader before, or the equivalent of that in whatever country you live in. No big deal, right? Right. East Middle School has grades 6-8, so we already knew where everything was. We were just experiencing it now as one level higher, with a new load of sixth graders to…do whatever we do to sixth graders. Not much. Mostly because that's the eighth graders' jobs.

It was nice to have the first day of school, and see all my friends that I hadn't seen in a while. I was in a remarkably good mood until the warning bell rang for homeroom, and Chad and Sharpay walked in, hand in hand. I hadn't spoken to either of them since our encounter at the mall, despite Chad's many attempts to come over and see me. Chad slid into his usual chair behind me, and Sharpay took her seat beside me, and I wondered if the school year could get any worse, when Ms. Darbus walked in. It wasn't a big surprise. She'd been our homeroom teacher every year since kindergarten. The bell rang just as she walked in, and she gave all the morning announcements, including one about sports try-outs. I wasn't listening, though, I was too busy fuming over the annoyance that was Chadpay. It was annoying me very very much a lot. I know that isn't proper grammar, but that's what I was thinking.

By lunchtime, I couldn't wait to get away from them, but unfortunately Chad dragged Sharpay over to the table we usually shared with some of the guys. They all looked pretty confused but none of the three of us offered an explanation. I didn't have one of my own, and I really didn't want to hear theirs. They hated each other, right?

During study hall, I snagged a seat next to Chuckie, who was trying to read a book.

"Dude, what's with Chadpay?" I asked him. He shrugged. "Seriously, they're creeping me out." He shrugged again. "I thought they hated each other."

"I told you they didn't," Chuckie replied, not looking up from his book.

"So, it's your birthday in three weeks, what say I take you someplace special?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Come on, why not?" I asked.

"I told you why not," he replied. "And you're not done thinking."

"Yes I am!" I protested.

"Then why are you jealous of Chad?" Chuckie retorted. I didn't have anything to say to that. He'd asked the one question I couldn't answer. The only plausible reason I could come up with is that it had something to do with Ryan, and I knew Chuckie did not want to hear that.

"I don't know," I said. What was I supposed to say?

"Yes, you do," Chuckie said.

"No, I don't," I said.

"Yes, you do, Troy. You know it, I know it, and I'm surprised that everyone else doesn't know it," he said. "You're jealous because Chad gets to hang out with Sharpay, which means he gets to be around Ryan."

"But he _hates_ them," I protested. "Why should two people who hate each other hang out? Is it for the express purpose of making me jealous?"

"I think you can answer that yourself," Chuckie responded, going back to his book. I sighed. I was never going to get straight answers out of anyone. It was better just to pretend that everything was fine, and normal, that I didn't like Ryan, that my best friend wasn't interested in me, that my _other_ best friend wasn't dating my ex-girlfriend…well, maybe I couldn't pretend that wasn't happening, but the rest I could. I could totally do that. No problemo. "It's not going to work," Chuckie said.

"Get out of my head!" I said. "It's not funny." He shrugged and returned to his book once again. "I'm serious. _How_ do you do that?"

"I've known you forever, Troy. I'd have to be stupid not to know what you're thinking," Chuckie said. "Hey, dude, what time is it?" I looked around desperately for a clock, but there wasn't one around.

"No idea," I said. "Aren't you wearing a watch?"

"Nah," Chuckie said. "Just slows me down."

"Whatever," I said. So, that was that. I was going to pretend that everything was normal, and all right. For as long as I could.

"Starting…now," Chuckie said. I sighed. "So, how does it feel to pretend that everything that's happening isn't happening?"

"It's not happening," I said. "So, I don't know."

"Well, that's perfectly logical," Chuckie said. "Good luck, though, seriously."

"Uh-huh, we'll see about that," I said. "I am going to rule the world of denial."

"All in your head, Troy," Chuckie said. He obviously didn't think I could do it. Well, I'd prove him wrong. "I'm sure you will prove me wrong. But I'm still not gonna bet on it."

"Bet on it," I said. "You know, that would make a great title for a song to sing while dancing around a golf course like an idiot."

"What?" Chuckie asked, very confused.

"I have no idea where that came from all of a sudden," I said. I had no idea where that had come from all of a sudden, but, as time would tell, like time has an uncanny knack of doing, that this statement would ring true eventually. "And speaking of bets…"

"We are not discussing any of those here, Troy," Chuckie said. "Those are top secret."

"Right, I know," I said. "But still…do you 'spose there was one about Chadpay?"

"Probably," Chuckie said. "There's one about everything else."

"Just about everything else," I corrected him. "We've cleverly left some things off the list."

"I know, I know, I know," Chuckie said. "Can I read my book now?"

"No," I said stubbornly. "Not until you tell me I can stop thinking."

"Well, you obviously haven't come to any kind of conclusion," he said, sighing, and putting his book down on the table.

"What kind of conclusion am I supposed to be coming to?" I asked.

"You have to figure it out for yourself," Chuckie said. "And when you come to it, we'll have this conversation again."

"I hate the first day of school," I said.

"You were the one who was complaining all summer, wanting school to start," he argued.

"That's because I was bored," I said. "And now I just want it to be Christmas, so I can get presents. And then my birthday. And then the day when…yeah, that'd be great."

"It'll probably be Christmas and your birthday a few more times before anything exciting happens," Chuckie said. "And you might as well put our first date on the list of things to look forward to. And then you and Ryan's, if you're looking that far in advance."

"Our first date?" I asked. "When is that?"

"When you come to your conclusion," Chuckie said.

"Whatever I decide?" I asked.

"Well, unless your decision is that you're actually in love with Sharpay, because there's nothing I can do to help you there," Chuckie said.

"I guess I'll go back to thinking," I said. The bell to end study hall rang just then, and our conversation was ended.

So, think I did. I thought, and I thought, and I thought. For, like, 20 minutes, because then the bell to end school rang, and I lost my train of thought. School was over, and that was big. It was time to go home, until I had to be at school the next day. And the next day. And the weeks after that. And the months after that. And the years after that. I hated school.

* * *

It was three weeks later before anything worth telling about happened. More specifically, it was Chuckie's birthday. Zeke, Jason, Jared, Chad, and I took Chuckie to the arcade at the mall (Chad's older brother, and my dad drove us). We brought Dylan too, and called it a "guy's night out", even though it was just the afternoon. Zeke, Jason, Chad, and I played Skeeball for, like, two hours, and I'm not exactly sure what everyone else did. We all played a game of laser tag, though. And it was very enjoyable, until Sharpay showed up with Ryan, claiming that they had just "stumbled upon" us here at the mall. Which might have been believable, if Ryan hadn't been rolling his eyes through Sharpay's speech.

"Well, that was a complete waste of a couple hours," I remarked to Chuckie, as we walked around the mall.

"How?" he asked.

"Well, wasn't the whole point of going to get our minds off Sharpay?" I asked.

"I thought it was to celebrate my birthday," he said.

"Oh, yeah, well that too," I said. "Happy…I wanna say twelfth?"

"Yeah," Chuckie said. "Same age as you. So what's your big plan, smarty pants?"

"Smarty pants?" I asked. "I don't think I've ever been called that."

"Whatever," he said. "What's the plan?"

"The plan is…I have no idea," I said. "Something."

"That's nice. So, no conclusion, yet, huh?" Chuckie asked.

"Nope," I said. "I've been forgetting to think. There's a lot of homework in the seventh grade."

"Sure," he said. "I hear the kids in Mr. Libby's class have even more than us."

"I bet," I said. "So, I'm going back to thinking, and you're going back to nothing, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "How long did that denial thing last, anyway?"

"What denial thing?" I asked. "I'm still doing that, remember?"

"Oh, right," Chuckie said. He didn't believe me. "Whatever. When does basketball practice start?"

"October," I said. "Tryouts are the third week of October, and practice starts immediately after that."

"You know they start practice on the first day of school in high school?" Chuckie said.

"That's gonna suck," I said. "But it'll be cool. My dad's the coach and stuff."

"Yeah, so you get special stuff and stuff," Chuckie said. "Come on, they're probably wondering where we are." We walked back to the arcade, where sure enough, my dad was waiting to reprimand me for wandering off.

"In my defense," I said, "I took a buddy. You know, buddy system and all of that gibberish." My dad rolled his eyes, and made me spend the rest of the afternoon Dylan-sitting, which to my disappointment, did not involve sitting on Dylan.

* * *

**A/N: First of all, I want to apologize for the lateness of this update. I don't actually have an excuse I haven't already used on either this story, the Board of Secrets, The Parent Trap, or Who's Getting Married, so I will now proceed to reuse one: The Crisis Fairy visited my house again. And not only that but (I think this is new) I had **_**writer's block**_**. It's a new sensation for me, so I just ended the chapter where it was, and went on to write Chapter Seven, that I started last night.**

**So, second of all, I want to apologize for the length of this update. My excuse is: Writer's Block. That's all. And cliché. I know. Complain. I could care less.**

**I don't own anything at all, even Skeeball (which I would really like to play right now). Thanks for reading, I'm sorry about…everything…and please review! I promise the next chapter won't be so long a wait. Really.**

**Samantha.**

**Oh, and a fun fact: I haven't actually been a seventh grader before. I skipped that grade.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven December 23, 2002 (**** 2 days before Christmas ****)**

"It would be really cool if it snowed right now," I said to Chad. We were putting Christmas lights on the outside of my house. Dylan was pretending to supervise, but he was really just spraying the fake-snow-in-a-can everywhere.

"Yeah, but that'd also be a sign of the apocalypse," Chuckie said, from behind me (and closer to the ground) almost making me fall off the ladder I was standing on, but Chad didn't miss a beat.

"Trudat," Chad said.

"You do realize that you're not Will Smith, right?" Sharpay asked him, from the white plastic patio chair she was sitting in, reading some girl magazine. Ryan had "prior commitments" as he called them with "some chick" as Chad had said. It turned out that "some chick" was Kelsi, but we didn't know that at the time. Chad and Sharpay were still technically dating, but I'd made my peace with it. Mostly. I was able to, basically because I had a good outlet for venting about them behind their backs (Dylan). My brother was becoming more and more helpful everyday.

"I may or may not realize that I am not Will Smith," Chad said. I rolled my eyes and climbed back down the ladder, for the experimental test of the lights. They worked, and I took a bow in mock pride. My mom emerged from the house to marvel at my great work, but ended u scolding Dylan for spraying "snow" everywhere. Sharpay, yawning, retired into the house with Chad (most likely to watch some dumb musical movie).

"So, what brings you to my humble abode on this wonderful December afternoon?" I asked Chuckie. He shrugged and sat down on the porch. I followed suit.

"I don't know," he said. "Well, actually, originally, I had made up some lame excuse about not being able to watch the TV in your living room from my bedroom now that you put lighted candy canes on the window, but I think I just wanted to come over." I nodded and there was a long silence.

"I don't think he realizes he's not Will Smith," I said. Chuckie nodded, stood up, and stretched. "Where you going?"

"Home," he said.

"You just got here," I protested.

"I thought you might come with me," he said. "Because I've been thinking, and I really think we should talk. And your house is not really even a possibility, considering Chadpay is using it." I stood up as well, brushed off my pants (which made Chuckie give me a weird look) and followed him across the road, into his house, and upstairs to his room. He sat on his bed; I took his desk chair. There was a silence.

"Are you going to talk, or are we going to sit in silence?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Okay, well, so, I told my parents," he said. Oh, right, I should have mentioned he hadn't told his parents yet. "They took it pretty well. You know, considering the facts."

"Yeah," I said. "Did the procrastination pay off or not?"

"Not, really," he said. "I feel like I should have done it sooner. Before I ever told you." Oh, right, and I was the first one he came out to. "Like years ago. But I guess I never really knew for _sure_ until last summer."

"Yeah, you've said that before," I said. There was a long silence.

"Are you done thinking yet?" Chuckie broke the silence impatiently.

"Um, yeah, sure?" I said. To tell the truth, I had been thinking less and less and hadn't reached any kind of conclusion.

"Lying," Chuckie said.

"Okay, so I haven't been thinking very much at all really," I said.

"So, no conclusion," Chuckie concluded.

"Nope," I said.

"Although, that could potentially be a good thing," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, it's a good thing you're sitting over there and I'm lazy," he said. "You are…I'm not sure exactly…but irresistibly so."

"I know," I said, smirking in that conceited way I'd perfected sometime during conception. "So attractively irresistible. All the girls say so."

"Thanks for likening me to a girl," Chuckie said.

"I am not– That's not the point," I said. "Say I was a little closer to where you're sitting. What then?"

"Well, remember, it was, like, four months ago, when we were right here and we kind of smooched?" he asked. I nodded, snickering at the word "smooched". "Something like that."

"Mhm," I said for lack of anything better to say.

"Would that be against your…principles?" Chuckie asked.

"I don't _think_ so," I said. "I'd have to check with my list of principles, but I'm pretty sure it isn't." I took a piece of paper out of my pocket. It was blank, but he didn't have to know that. I scanned the piece of paper. "Let's see…no wearing white shoes after labor day…no making up fake religions in order to get presents on Dylan's birthday…no unsafe sex…Nope! Nothing in here about that."

"Maybe there should be," Chuckie mumbled to himself, thinking I didn't hear him. I raised my eyebrows at him, so he cleared his throat. "That piece of paper is blank, you know?"

"Um…yeah, I know," I said. "I'm not…schizophrenic."

"Okay," Chuckie said. "Just checking." There was a pause. "So, what do you think?"

"Sounds…okay," I said. "Well, you know, considering I've been single longer than I have ever been before, that I kissed you before and it was a little weird but not too much so, and…some reason that I could list that would actually convince you to do this."

"I don't need a reason from you," Chuckie said, grinning. "I've already done my thinking."

"Oh. Okay then," I said. "What was your conclusion?"

"It's a secret," Chuckie said. "I'm not telling."

"Yes, typically, that's what a secret entails," I said. All of a sudden, the door to Chuckie's room burst open.

"Dudes, there you are," Chad said, from the doorway.

"You know, typically, people knock," Chuckie said.

"Whatever," Chad said. "Troy, your mom's looking for you. She can't find the name balls for the tree."

"Whatever," I said. "Guess I have to go home. I'll see you tomorrow?" Chuckie shrugged in a way that made me think I might see him later that day.

"Kewls," Chuckie said. I left Chuckie's room with Chad, and walked back to my house.

"Why are you always hanging out with him?" Chad asked.

"Because he's my best friend," I said.

"Dude," Chad said, outraged, "I am your best friend!"

"Sure, Chad," I said. "Whatever you say."

"It's not fair! Chuckie has the unfair advantage of living across the street from you!" Chad protested.

"I said 'sure' Chad," I said. "Whatever you say."

"Anyway, so why are you always hanging out with him? There's something funny going on," he said.

"Why did you really come to find me?" I asked.

"Your mom can't find the name balls for the tree," Chad repeated.

"Well, considering I put them on the tree last night, that is definitely a lie," I said. "What's really up?"

"Okay, it's Sharpay," Chad said. "She's driving me crazy."

"That's your own fault," I said. "I told you so, but you didn't listen."

"Well, I only went out with her to make you jealous," he said.

"Sure," I said. "And why would you want to make me jealous?"

"I…don't remember. But it made perfect sense when she explained it," Chad said.

"So do a lot of things, Chad," I said. "Puh-lease. You know she is _just_ using you to make me chartreuse with jealousy. Or whatever the color for jealousy is."

"I think it's green with envy," Chad said.

"But, anyway, it's not working. Because I don't even like her," I said. "And I'm never going out with her again."

"Great! Me neither. Let's make a pact," Chad said. "As soon as I get out of this, we'll never date her again."

"Word," I said.

"Word?" Chad asked.

"You've never done 'word'?" I asked. "Come on, Chad, you're supposed to be up on the new lingo."

"Whatever," he said. "So it's a pact."

"Yes, it is a pact," I said. "So where is the ice queen, anyway?"

"Well, she's out…shopping for mirrors, as usual," Chad said.

"Dude. The joke is older than you are," I said. "Where is she _really_?"

"No idea, man," Chad said. We crossed the street and went up my front steps at which point we both ran into the front door. "It's locked."

"Thank you for your very insightful observation, Chad," I said. "I can see where that girl at school comes off teasing you and stuff."

"What girl?" Chad demanded as we walked to try the door on the side of the house.

"That girl. The smart one. Whatever her name is. You know…the smart girl person," I tried to articulate. I tried to open the side door, but it was locked too. We walked around to the back one.

"Do _not_ tell me you mean Taylor McKessie," Chad said.

"Yeah, that's her name," I said. "She's always making those remarks."

"She's always talking smack about the both of us, you know," Chad said. He tried to open the back door and failed. "And the rest of the team."

"Yeah, but mostly you," I said. "She–"

"Don't even _think_ about saying she likes me," Chad said. "That's so twisted." I tried to get the door open, too.

"She likes you," I said, ducking beneath Chad's swinging arm, "and we are officially locked out."

"Thanks for that insightful observation, Troy," Chad remarked.

"Oh, look, there's a note," I said. "'Dear Troy, if you come back from Chuckie's sometime this century, Dylan and I went to the store. I'm going to pick up the fixings for Christmas dinner (We're expecting company, you know), and then Dylan has a playdate with Becca, and then I'll be home. Love, Mom. PS, your Dad's still at practice. He probably won't be home until after me.' Oh that's just lovely."

"Don't you have a spare key?" Chad asked.

"Why would they give me a key? My mom doesn't work! She's home all the time," I said.

"She should really get a job," Chad said. "My mom has one."

"Your mom went to college," I said.

"I'm just saying," Chad said. "Anyway, now we're stuck out here in the cold–"

"We live in New Mexico," I interjected.

"–And your mom's not gonna be home for hours," Chad finished.

"She probably won't be that long," I said. "We can go hang with Chuckie until she gets home."

"Dude, I don't _wanna_ hang with Chuckie," Chad said.

"Why not?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Because…you know…he's…well…you know…" Chad said.

"Do you?" I asked.

"Yes!" Chad said. "He's…well, you know…"

"I swear if the word 'gay' or a synonym to it comes out of your mouth, you'll be minus some teeth pretty soon," I threatened.

"Well, yeah," Chad said. I took a swing at his head, but he ducked. "Come on, it's a little weird."

"Chad, Chuckie has been my best friend basically since I met him, and he's been your friend since pre-school, same as me," I said. "He's still the same as he always was. And he's not going to go all 'gay' on you. He doesn't like you like that."

"And you know this because…?" Chad prompted.

"I just _do_, okay?" I shouted. "Now, come on. We're going to go and hang at our best friend's house." I pulled Chad back across the street, and into Chuckie's living room, where he was sitting, reading a book. Chad stood around awkwardly for a second before I pushed him into a chair.

"You read a lot, man," Chad said instead of a greeting.

"What he means is 'hi'," I translated. Chuckie laughed.

"Why are you back here?" he asked.

"My mom left and locked me out of the house," I said.

"I hate it when my mom does that," Chuckie said. "That's why I got my own key."

"Told you so," Chad said to me, sticking his tongue out and crossing his arms.

"What's up with him?" Chuckie asked.

"He's in a bad mood because I said that smart girl from school likes him," I said. "Oh, and also because I threatened to knock his teeth in."

"Why?" Chuckie asked.

"For being mean," I said. "But he's done being mean now, right, Chad?" Chad rolled his eyes. "I am so dead serious, Chad. If you keep being weird about this, you can stop being my friend."

"Whatever, dude," Chad said, but he didn't move.

"Excuse us, Chucks, I need to yell at Chad, and I'd rather not do it in your living room," I said, exiting the living room, through the dining room, and into the kitchen. "Chad, he is not a bad person. He's the same person he was before."

"I don't think so," Chad said.

"But he is," I said.

"Well, then, why I don't leave you and your stupid _boyfriend_ alone, and you two can do whatever it is that your kind do together," Chad said, making to leave to the backyard through the kitchen door. I caught him by the arm and spun him around.

"Don't you even _think_ that again," I said. "First of all, I am not Chuckie's boyfriend. If you hadn't thought to remember, I had a girlfriend, commonly known as Sharpay who is…oh let me think…YOUR girlfriend. Secondly, even if I was, you don't have to be rude about it. Gays aren't the reason the economy is bad. W–They aren't the reason the dumbass president is going to war. They aren't responsible for 9/11. They aren't responsible for anything. You think, being brought up a Democrat like me and any normal person – no offense to Republicans – you wouldn't mind having him around. For God sakes, he's only 12! It took a lot of guts for him to even come out to us, let alone he told his parents! Thank God they were understanding! He could have been kicked out of his house, if he'd had different parents! Imagine if he had my parents! Imag– Oh, no."

"What?" Chad asked. I shook my head.

"Nothing. Where was I?" I asked, mostly to myself. "Oh, right. You've seen the movies, you've heard the stories. He might be crashing on my couch every night if he had you for a parent. Honestly. You _said_ you were okay with it, but I guess people lie, right?"

"But–" Chad began.

"But I guess if you're going to go all homophobic on his ass, then we don't need the likes of you as a friend," I said.

"But–" Chad began again.

"This isn't a joke, Chad," I said. "If you don't want him around, then I don't want you around."

"If you would let me finish–" Chad tried to start.

"Well, every time you do, you say something rude or prejudiced. It could just as easily be you on the chopping block, you know," I said.

"Would you just let me finish a sentence?!" Chad roared.

"What?" I asked.

"You're right," Chad said.

"What?" I repeated. This hadn't been the answer I had been expecting.

"I said–" Chad began.

"No, I heard what you said, but I mean…really?" I asked. "I'm almost never right."

"Well, you are this time," Chad said. "You're right. Gays aren't the people responsible for ruining the world. That would be President Bush and his gang of cronies. And I'm not going all homophobic on his ass. It's not like I tried to beat him up in the locker room, or somewhere else equally humiliating just to secure my masculinity."

"Where did you even learn that phrase?" I asked.

"I think I heard Taylor say it once?" Chad said. I raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean…I read it in a book? I mean…I don't like Taylor, okay?!"

"Okay, okay," I said. "If you say so. You know you're going to end up married to her someday."

"Sure, and you'll be together with Ryan," Chad said. I laughed. Little did Chad know…

"Oh, look it's Mr. and Mrs. Danforth having a fight again," remarked Chuckie from the door. I opened my mouth to protest, but Chad beat me to it.

"See, that, there. That's what I'm talking about," he argued, pointing at Chuckie.

"God, Chad, it was a joke," Chuckie said. "Take it easy."

"Why do I have to be the girl?" I asked.

"Because you're less likely to kick my ass for it," Chuckie said. "And, I mean, have you _met_ you?" I opened my mouth again in outrage, and Chad started laughing. So, I opted instead for chasing Chuckie around the island in his kitchen.

"That was priceless, man," Chad said, offering a high five to Chuckie, who took it.

"You know, you guys aren't exactly quiet when you're arguing," Chuckie said.

"We know," I said.

"Yeah, so, I was–" Chuckie began, but he was interrupted by the doorbell. "Oh, I gotta get that."

"Why? Aren't your parents home?" Chad asked.

"Nah, they're…out. Actually, I have no idea where they are. That's probably bad," Chuckie said. He opened the front door, and to all three of our surprises, Ryan was standing on the doorstep, with his blue suitcase.

"I'm not sure whether to be sketched or happy," I muttered in Chuckie's ear. Chuckie laughed.

"What'cha doing here, Ryan?" he asked.

"The doors to Troy's were locked, and there was a note on the back door from his mom saying he was here," Ryan said.

"Okay, better question," I said. "Why were you at my house?"

"It said in the letter, didn't you read it?" Ryan said. "We're staying with you over Christmas."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Chuckie, Chad, and I all said at the same time, all for different reasons.

"Jinx," Chuckie said. "So, you're spending Christmas with the Bolton's. Oh, the joy. Where are your parents this year? And, speaking of which, why don't they ever take you guys with them?"

"They like their little honeymoons," Ryan said. "And I think they're in…New Zealand or someplace else down under."

"Awesome," Chuckie said. "Why don't you…come inside, you know, out of the cold. We'll have…candy…or something." I started gesticulating wildly, trying to signal to Chuckie that he shouldn't let Ryan eat my Special Dark chocolate bars or the Sunkist soda I was hiding in his refrigerator. I couldn't talk because I was jinxed. "Oh, and I think I have some Special Dark candy bars and some Sunkist, if you want some."

"Oh, yeah, that sounds great," Ryan said, dragging his suitcase into the entryway and dropping it. Chuckie smirked at me, and Chad slammed the door, also mad that he was jinxed. "And maybe we could watch TV? Do you have cable?" Chuckie shook his head. "Satellite?" Chuckie shook his head again. "PlayStation or similar brand gaming system?"

"Yeah, I have Tr– I mean, _his_ old PlayStation," Chuckie said, jerking a finger in my direction. I sighed in frustration. "We could play on that."

"His 'old' PlayStation?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, well, he thought he broke it, but he didn't," Chuckie said.

"Whatever," Ryan said. "What games do you have?"

"OMG, I got this new game the other day," Chuckie said. "You'd be awesome at it."

"Oh, what is it?" Ryan asked, sitting on the couch.

"Dance Dance Revolution," Chuckie said. Chad sniggered, but stopped after getting dirty looks from me and Chuckie. "No, really, you'd be really good. I mean, I've seen you dance."

"You have?" Ryan asked.

"Well, Sharpay makes Troy– shit! –go to her recital things every year, and so he does, and I get dragged along too, so that he doesn't have to go alone and stuff," Chuckie said.

"Yeah," I said. I didn't have anything to say, but I wanted to abuse my right of speech anyway. Chad sent me a glare that very plainly said either "I hate you" or "Don't rub it in". Or it might have said "Hey, unjinx me!". I opted for that. "Chad," I said, simply.

"That's _not_ what I said," Chad said. "Are you guys going to play DDR or not?"

"DDR?" Ryan asked, confused.

"Yeah," Chad said, not offering an explanation.

"Yes, we are," Chuckie said, selecting several remotes and rolling out the DDR mat he'd gotten for an early Christmas present from his Grandmother who forgot that Chuckie didn't celebrate Hanukkah like she did. It's a long story. Chuckie set up the game, rather quickly, I thought. Perhaps he'd been practicing. I'd never played. I personally thought that there were less humiliating ways to make a complete fool of myself. "Okay, so if you've never played before–"

"What makes you think that?" Ryan asked, breezing through the first six menus very rapidly.

"Okay, never mind," Chuckie said. "Let's do this."

"Oh, I like this song," I commented. Chuckie selected that song, probably mostly because he knew I liked it. The two of them stared at Chuckie's TV screen, backs to me and Chad, anticipating the arrows that were moving down the screen. They jumped into action at the same time, and I swear they looked like they were one person the way they moved. Every move they did they did at exactly the same time, like they were in the Olympic Synchronized DDR events. I guess it was part of the game, or whatever, but I still thought it was cool. Apparently, you're graded at the end of the song, and they both "passed" with A's. Go figure. Who knew Chuckie could dance?

"Who knew Chuckie could dance?" Chad commented to me quietly.

"I did," I replied. I didn't offer any other words, though. Chuckie and Ryan high-fived.

"Any other takers?" Ryan asked. Chad and I shook our heads.

"There are less humiliating ways to make complete fools of ourselves," I said. "No thanks."

"Oh, come on, Troy," Ryan said. "I did your stupid basketball thing."

"When have you ever played basketball?" I asked.

"Last summer," he said. "Remember, we were playing some stupid NBA thing on your PlayStation?"

"Oh, I thought you meant _real_ basketball," I said. "Fine, but if I make a complete fool of myself, it's not my fault."

"Nah, we'll put you on easy," Chuckie said. "It's super easy." They set it up for me and I, rolling my eyes the whole way, stepped onto Chuckie's mat. "This should be hilarious," I heard Chuckie remark to Chad. I tried by best to keep up with the screen. Okay, I did my best. And I totally kicked ass at it. There was applause from Chad and Chuckie when I finished.

"Thank you," I said. "It's not as difficult as I figured."

"Did you even look at Ryan's half of the screen?" Chuckie asked. "He had, like, four hundred times more arrows than you."

"Four hundred times zero is still zero, Chuckie," Ryan said. "And mine had so many more than zero."

"Burn," Chuckie said, slapping five with Ryan. It was some kind of DDR joke that I wouldn't ever get.

"Anyway, I'm pooped," Ryan said. "Let's just hang out."

"Word," Chad said. Chuckie turned off his TV and the four of us sat around for, like, three and a half minutes before any of us said anything.

"So, d'you s'pose Troy's mom is back yet?" Ryan asked. I turned around to look at the window at my house, and shook my head.

"Nope, no lights on." I said. "It is snowing though."

"It is _not_," Chad said. "We live in New Mexico."

"I'm just saying. It would be cool if it snowed," I said.

"They have this argument constantly," Ryan and Chuckie informed each other at the same time.

"Jinx," I said, smirking. "Anyway, so–" Chuckie's house phone rang at that moment. "Um…"

"I got it," Chad said. He ran into the hall to pick up the phone. "Hello? Oh, hi. No, he can't come to the phone right now. He's jinxed. Sure, you can talk to Troy. Troy!!"

"Yes?" I asked, appearing in the hallway.

"It's Sharpay," Chad said.

"Oh," I said. "Did you tell her she was evil and that we never wanted to speak to her again?" I could almost hear Ryan making large gestures behind my back trying to tell me without words that that wasn't true.

"Nope," Chad said, smirking. "But she wants to talk to you, so maybe you can tell her."

"Fine," I said, snatching the phone from him. "What do you want, Shar?"

"Nothing," Sharpay replied. "Why aren't you at your house?"

"Why? Where are you?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Your house," Sharpay said.

"How?" I asked.

"Well, there's this thing. It's called a _door_. You walk through it to get into the house," she said. "And, more importantly, there are these things called _keys_. They unlock doors."

"Funny, Shar," I said.

"Funny how you think I'm evil and you never want to speak to me again, but you're still calling me 'Shar'?" Sharpay asked.

"Fine. Funny, _Sharpay_," I said. "Where did you get a key to my house?"

"There's an extra one in the hide-a-key fake rock in the garden next to your side porch," Sharpay said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How did you know that?" I asked.

"Well, it was the first thing your mom told me when I came over to your house last summer after she put it there," Sharpay said. "She said she didn't want you boys to lock me out of the house intentionally on account of cooties or something, like that one time you did."

"Uh-huh." I mumbled. "Okay, well, let us in, we're coming over."

"Fine," Sharpay said. "I'll be waiting." I hung up the phone without even bothering to say goodbye. She didn't want it, anyway. "Come on, guys, we're going to my house."

**A/N: Well, if I do say so myself (which I do) **_**this**_** is a full-length chapter. The last few have been somewhat, well, short. I got some inspiration last night, and decided to write this, and so I did, and Voila! Chapter Seven. And the longest chapter so far. So, I don't own…um…anything, as usual, including…well, everything. Thanks for reading, and please review!!**

**Samantha.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight December 23, 2002 (**** That same day ****)**

"And _why_ are we going to your house?" Chad inquired, as the only one of the other three that wasn't still jinxed.

"Because that's where your girlfriend is, Chad. Why do you think we're going over there?" I said. Chad shrugged. The four of us left Chuckie's house and crossed the street to my house, where there was a single light on in the living room. I tried to open the door, but it was still locked. I banged on the door. "SHARPAY!! Let us in this instant." Sharpay appeared in the window and smirked.

"Maybe I will let you in, maybe I won't," she said.

"Why the hell did you call us if you didn't want us over here?" I asked.

"Oh, I want you over here," she said. "I just want to make you beg for it."

"Well, let's see, it's his house! So just let us in," Chad said.

"Hello to you too, boyfriend," Sharpay said. I swear I heard Ryan and Chad roll their eyes, since my eyes were tuned to Sharpay. "I suppose I could let you in." She opened the door long enough to let Chad, Ryan, and Ryan's suitcase inside, leaving me and Chuckie outside.

"And what are we? Canned liver?" I asked.

"Well, since you're not my boyfriend or my brother–" Sharpay began.

"Ryan, let us in the house," I said. Ryan, relieved that he could speak again, immediately opened the door for me and Chuckie to enter the house. Chuckie gave me a "Aren't you going to unjinx me?" look, and I just smirked.

"Thank you, Troy," Ryan said.

"Thank you, Ryan," I said. "We're even. Anyway, I think it's snack time."

"Where are your parents, anyway?" Sharpay asked.

"Didn't you read the note?" I asked. Sharpay shook her head, and Ryan produced the note, smirking from his pocket. "Wait a sec. How did he end up at Chuckie's house, if you ended up here?"

"I was out with Kelsi," Ryan said. Chad, Chuckie, and I stared. "That's my friend. Kelsi. She writes the music for our music stuff."

"If you say so," Chad said.

"Guys, you know her," Sharpay said. "She's in our homeroom."

"We're in the same homeroom?" Chad asked. Sharpay frowned at him.

"Yeah," she said. "You knew that. I sit next to Troy. Remember?" Chad shook his head. "We were just in school yesterday!" Chad still shrugged. "Whatever. So, he was out with Kelsi, and I was getting my stuff. Remember how I was here earlier?"

"Yeah," Chad said. "I remember that. You told me I wasn't Will Smith."

"Ah, so he can remember something," Sharpay said, sarcastically. "Anyway, Kelsi. She sits with me and Ryan at our lunch table? You sat right next to her yesterday at lunch?"

"Whatever you say," Chad said. "Wait a second. Is she kind of short…okay, _really_ short…brown hair, glasses, and one of those hats that Ryan usually wears?" Sharpay nodded, and I looked at Ryan. He was hatless.

"Why are you hatless?" I asked him. He shrugged.

"Can't fit enough hats to match all my outfits in my luggage, so I go without them while I'm over here," Ryan said. "Usually. Actually, I have my peach hat, because life is not complete without a peach hat." Sharpay rolled her eyes. "It isn't!"

"Whatever," Sharpay said. "Are we going to stand around in the hall all day, or are we going to have a seat in the living room?" The five of us walked into the living room and had a seat.

"I'm hungry," I said, standing up immediately. "Anyone else?" Chuckie immediately stood up and followed me into the kitchen, in hopes that I would dejinx him. "Want a sandwich? Juice? Sunkist? Oh, that's right, you can't talk." I laughed at his very annoyed face. "So, what do you think about this 'Kelsi'?" He just turned his back to me and started ferreting through the cupboards around the dishwasher. "What d'you say…Chuckie?" Chuckie sighed at me.

"I dislike you very much," he said. "And I am not speaking to you."

"That was just to get you back for calling me Chad's wife," I said.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said. "So, we're even?"

"Pretty much," I said. I pulled about forty (or five, depending on your definition of the number system) bowls of popcorn from the island in the kitchen, and walked back into the living room.

"Sweet, popcorn," Chad said. "Is that for me?"

"No, all five are for me," I said. "Of course one is yours." I handed the twins and Chuckie their bowls, and we sat around munching in silence.

"Well, this is fun," Chuckie remarked.

"Oh, he does talk," Sharpay remarked.

"I was jinxed," Chuckie mumbled. I was about to pitch an idea about playing a game or something, when my mom walked in the front door.

"Hey, mom!" I yelled.

"Don't yell in the house, Troy," my mother called. I rolled my eyes, and Chad laughed. My mom walked into the living room, and observed the five of us. "Well, if it isn't the fabulous five," my mom said. Chad frowned, Sharpay smiled conceitedly, and Chuckie laughed. "How many of you are staying the night?"

"I am," I said, before anyone else could, generating a laugh from everyone else.

"Just them," Chad said, pointing at the twins. "I'm expected at home."

"Actually, you're not," my mom said. "Your mother called, and asked if you could stay the holidays. She and your dad are going out of town to visit some relatives."

"Oh. Wonderful," Chad said, glaring at me as though this was somehow my fault.

"Well, since you know everything else, do you know where my parents are, Mrs. B?" Chuckie asked. My mom peered out the living room window towards Chuckie's house.

"I don't know anything, and I can't see your house out the window because there's a giant lighted candy cane on it. Troy, why'd you put a candy cane on the living room window?" my mom asked.

"That's what I said," Chuckie said. "Because with it there, I can't see the TV from my bedroom." My mom laughed because she knew it was true.

"Remind me never to do anything I wouldn't want you to see without closing my curtains first," I mumbled to Chuckie, who struggled hard to contain his laughter. I made a mental note to not change in my bedroom anymore.

"I'm not sure your parents would like you watching TV after they've sent you to bed," my mom said, before leaving the room. Ryan went with her to get a drink. I looked out the window past the candy canes, and also couldn't see any lights on.

"Chuckie," I said, still staring out the window, "if your parents aren't home, and you're over here, then where's your sister?"

"You have a sister?" Sharpay exclaimed, but Chuckie ignored her.

"She's at her boyfriend's," Chuckie said. "I think. She also has this group of soccer girls she hangs out with sometimes."

"You have a _sister_?" Sharpay repeated.

"Yes," Chad said to her. "He does."

"How old is she?" Sharpay demanded immediately. "And why didn't I know that?"

"Because we never talk," Chuckie said. "And she's…dammit, how old are we, again?"

"We're twelve," I said.

"Right," Chuckie said. "We're twelve."

"You're both twelve?" Sharpay asked.

"Last time I checked, twins are the same age," Chuckie said. "I believe you and Ryan are." That shut Sharpay up, and Ryan came back in with drinks for him and Sharpay.

"I heard my name," he said.

"We were establishing that you and Sharpay are the same age," Chad said.

"Yes, we're twelve," Ryan said.

"Yes," I said, "we've also established that." The front door opened again, and my dad walked in.

"I'm home!" he announced.

"Hi, Dad," I called. My dad walked into the living room, and looked at the five kids sitting in it.

"Honey, what were you saying earlier about company?" he asked, walking through the living room and into the kitchen. I rolled my eyes.

"Does he ever listen to a word my mom says?" I asked the room at large. "No." There was a quickly muffled yell from the kitchen. "He's just found out he's housing three extra kids this Christmas." There were muffled raised voices shouting in the kitchen. "And now he's arguing with mom about the size of the Christmas turkey, and shouldn't it be a ham, because turkeys are for thanksgiving."

"How do you know that?" Sharpay asked me.

"Talent," I said. "It's an art." The shouting had come to an end much sooner than usual. Mom had actually bought a Christmas ham, in order to preempt the argument that would follow. It was almost nine before we got a call from Chuckie's house asking where on earth he was and why didn't he lock the door on his way out. He went home shortly after that. A car showed up in my driveway shortly after that, and Dylan walked in the front door. He took three steps into the living room, quickly surveyed it, and then ran upstairs, slamming the door to his room when he arrived.

"I still don't like him," Sharpay said.

"He still doesn't like you either," I said. "Fortunately, you don't go to the same school, and you won't until we're seniors in high school. That's a long time from now."

"It's only five years," Chad said. "I mean, it's not that long."

"Yeah, but a lot can happen in five years," I said. Time would tell that this was again true. Time is rather uncanny in its ways of making things come true.

I got almost no sleep that night. Chad kept me up almost all night. He snores. Loudly. Did I mention that? I was up as the sun rose in the morning. I went down to the living room, grabbed a bunch of construction paper, a ruler, a pen, a pair of scissors, and a stapler, as was a Christmas Eve Morning tradition, and made a paper chain, that I managed to tape around the walls of the living room. Then I shook each of Dylan's presents that were under the tree. Why not shake my own? They might break. I don't want to break my own presents. That's what we call "bad". As I finished shaking the last of Dylan's presents, I heard some noises in the driveway, and looked around for a clock, trying to figure out what ungodly hour it was. I gave up halfway through the search, though, and went outside to investigate the noise. As I suspected, it was Chuckie shooting hoops in my driveway.

"Hey Troy!" Chuckie said, shooting a hoop.

"Dude, it is 8:30 in the morning– Whoa, is it 8:30 in the morning?" I asked. Chuckie pulled up his sleeve to look at his watch.

"Yeah, it is, why?" he asked.

"How did I do that?" I asked in reply.

"Do what?" he asked.

"Know what time it was," I said. He shrugged.

"You looked at a clock?" he offered.

"No, I didn't," I said.

"Maybe it's just talent," he said. "You know, internal clock."

"I've never been able to do that before," I said. He shrugged again. "Anyway, it is now 8:31 in the morning, and I demand to know why you are shooting hoops in my driveway, when you should definitely still be in bed."

"You're up," he pointed out.

"Chad snores," I said. "Very loudly."

"Well, that's never bothered you before," Chuckie pointed out, scoring another basket.

"I never noticed before," I said.

"Another superpower," Chuckie remarked, throwing the basketball at me, which I caught easily and shot through the hoop. "Game?"

"No thanks," I said. "I'm way too tired to beat you, and I don't feel like losing."

"Well, happy Christmas Eve then," Chuckie said, fetching the ball from where it had landed, and shooting it again. "You know I heard that in high school the cheerleaders and the basketball players practice in the gym at the same time."

"That sucks," I said.

"Would it suck more or less if Sharpay wasn't a cheerleader?" Chuckie asked. I guess I probably should have mentioned that. Sharpay used to be the captain of the cheer squad. Can't see it? I can't either, and I was there. It does explain why she only dates basketball players. She also played tennis, but that's more believable.

"About the same," I said. "I don't really care about her that much. She's going out with Chad now, isn't she?"

"She's been going out with Chad for a while," he said.

"Well, we're getting him out of it," I said.

"How?" Chuckie asked.

"Good point," I said. "I haven't quite gotten there yet. But I will figure it out. In the meantime, game?"

"Thought you said you were too tired," he said.

"Nah, I'm just lazy," I said, stealing the ball from him and shooting it. "Score. My ball." I won the game, but did I even have to tell you that?

"Can't believe you won," Chuckie remarked, sitting down on top of the picnic table in the yard.

"Really?" I asked, skeptically.

"Okay, yeah, I can," he said.

"Thought so. I think it's breakfast time," I said. Then, I looked at my wrist, where there was no watch. "Yup, it's definitely breakfast time." Chuckie leaned over to look at my wrist too.

"How can you tell?" he asked.

"My stomach is growling," I explained.

"Well, that's cheating," he said.

"Oh, I know," I said. "Breakfast?"

"Sure," he agreed. We went back into the house and I cooked some toaster strudel in the toaster. Chad came downstairs, probably alerted by the smell of the toaster strudel, right after the toaster strudel popped out of the toaster.

"Good morning, Chad," I said brightly. "Sleep well?"

"Not really, you snore," Chad said.

"No, that was you," I said.

"No, it was you," Chad retorted.

"It can't've been because I didn't sleep hardly at all because you were snoring," I said.

"Maybe you both snore and don't realize it," Chuckie offered. Chad and I both gave him "yeah, right" faces, and the three of us sat down to toaster strudel. We deemed ourselves finished when Dylan, true to tradition, came into the kitchen and demanded his breakfast. I shoved a plate at him, and we all went into the living room, where Ryan was…the only good way to put it is dancing. He had a personal CD player set up next to him, and earbuds in his ears, and he didn't even notice the three of us standing there until he turned around in his dance, at which point he stopped immediately, dropped his earbuds and blushed pink.

"Good morning Ryan," I said.

"Hi guys," he said. "What'cha doing up so early?"

"It's like 9," I said, without any explanation of a clock. Chuckie checked his watch to verify it, though. It was right.

"That's still pretty early to be up on Christmas Eve," Ryan said. I shrugged.

"Chad snores," I said.

"My sister has her friends over," Chuckie offered in explanation. "Major sleepover in my living room."

"Sweet," Chad said, making for the door to go and "observe" this sleepover, but I grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Anyway, what was that you were dancing just now?" I asked.

"It's nothing," Ryan said quickly. "Just the new choreography for the next musical." I seriously doubted that was the truth, but dropped it.

"That's cool," Chad said. "Where's the ice princess?" Ryan shrugged.

"Bed, I think," he said.

"Where any normal person should be," I said. "I made the paper chain. You like?" Ryan shrugged, and rolled his earbuds into a ball before stuffing them into a case with his CD player. "So what shall we do today?"

"Same thing we do every day?" Chad suggested. "Nothing."

"Nothing sounds like fun," I said. "Maybe there's a marathon on TV." The other three nodded in general agreements and took various chairs around the room, leaving me to get the remotes for the TV and the dish. When I went to sit down, there was only one seat left. On the couch, next to Chuckie who grinned evilly. I rolled my eyes and sat down next to him. We managed to find some kind of marathon. Home Improvement, actually. I really didn't think it was a good idea, because I knew Chuckie would repeatedly whisper about how hot Jonathon Taylor Thomas was, but he didn't say a word, for which I was thankful, even though he is kind of cute. We stopped watching said marathon when Sharpay came downstairs to stare at us, before squealing that Jonathon Taylor Thomas was _so_ cute, at which point the four of us guys stood up in unison and went outside.

"She thinks every guy is cute," Chad said.

"Tell me about it," Ryan said. "She comes home everyday with some new guy she thinks is cute."

"She'd never date anyone she raves on and on about like that," Chad said.

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Well, because she has us, obviously," Chad said, gesturing between himself and me.

"Not funny," I said. "Not funny at all."

**A/N: So, people, I am **_**so**_** sorry about the really long wait, I actually…well, I have a lot of things to do, but the coolest thing is I actually know how the trilogy ends now, so that's pretty awesome.**

**Thank you for reading, and please review! I own High School Musical, as well as the Microsoft Corporation and I'm worth as much as Bill Gates. (Ha ha, not funny.)**

**Samantha.**

**PS, to all interested, Troy is beginning to develop his special Spider senses. (Also not funny, I know...)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine December 24, 2002 ( Christmas Eve )**

"So this is what Christmas dinner with the family is like," Sharpay remarked to me. She and I were taking all the dishes from the table to the sink.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said. "You've never had dinner with your family?"

"Well, not on Christmas," Sharpay said. "They always seem to have something better to do." I put the plates I was carrying in the sink, and she put the plates she was carrying in the sink, and then all of a sudden, the power went out. It was cool, too, because you could hear the fridge turning off. Sharpay screamed.

"Shar, chill, the power went out," I said, loudly.

"It's dark!" she said, even louder.

"Yes, that's what I said!" I replied, loudly. There were footsteps coming into the kitchen.

"Guys?" It was Chad.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"The power's out," Chad said.

"Well, thank you Captain Obvious," Sharpay said. "Geez." The phone rang, and the place where Sharpay was standing made a noise like she was jumping out of her skin. The phone rang about seven times before my mom picked it up. I could hear her talking to someone of the phone (the one in the hall had a cord, so it worked when the power was out). The she hung up the phone.

"The Browns don't have heat when the power goes out, so they're coming over," my mom announced to the kitchen.

"Thanks, mom," I said. "Do you know where Ryan is?"

"I think he's still in the living room with your father," my mom said.

"Do you know how long this is supposed to last?" Chad asked.

"It says on the radio that the grid got knocked down by some lightning, and the outage is expected to last until morning," my dad called from the living room.

"Wow, you can hear everything in the house when there's no noises from the electricity," Chad remarked.

"Yes," my dad said. "So don't try and make any moves. We'll hear them."

"You're not my dad," Chad mumbled. There was a knocking on the front door, and my mom let Mr. and Mrs. Brown into the house, and behind them were Chuckie, and his twin sister, Sarah. All four were carrying flashlights. Chuckie shined his into the kitchen and joined the three of us. Sarah saw us, giggled, and then her flashlight went hurrying down the hall. I rolled my eyes, even though no one could see.

"Well, a power outage on Christmas Eve. Imagine that," Chuckie said. I could hear the grin on his face. "Guess we'll be spending Christmas together after all."

"That's just what Dad wants," I said. "Two more kids."

"Hey, but there's two more adults too," Chuckie pointed out.

"That is a good point," I said. There was the sound of footsteps in the hall, and then Dylan's voice came from the living room. He was talking to mom and dad.

"Mom, you promised Becca's parents we'd take her home tonight," he said. I gasped. I'd completely forgotten she was still there. Apparently Mom and Dad had too.

"Well, I'll just call the Joneses and see if she can't stay over until the power comes back on," my mom said. There was the sounds of her walking into the hall and picking up the phone. A few minutes later, she returned to the living room. "The Joneses say she can stay here until it passes." I could hear Dylan jumping for joy. I stole Chuckie's flashlight with a move that quite often gets me the basketball on the court, and walked into the living room myself. The other kids, not wanting to stay in the kitchen by themselves with no lights, followed me. My dad and Chuckie's parents were having a conversation in low tones about male pattern baldness, or at least, that was the subject when I walked in. It quickly changed through to Bengal Tigers, Blue Raspberries, and the exact angle at which a basketball must be thrown in order to get in the basket every time. Dylan, Becca, and Sarah were sitting in the middle of the room on the floor, surrounded by flashlights, and Ryan was sitting in a chair next to the TV.

"So, I was wondering if all the kids wanted to come upstairs and…I don't know…tell ghost stories…or talk about Christmas…or play Truth or Dare," I pitched. Dylan looked interested and immediately pulled Becca to her feet and up the stairs. Ryan shrugged and joined the posse of pre-teens behind me. Sarah giggled. I followed Dylan and Becca up to my room, and when everyone was inside, I shut the door.

"So is it Truth or Dare, or is it ghost stories?" Chad asked.

"Well, as the oldest one here," I said, "I think we should play Truth or Dare."

"That makes you the king," Becca said helpfully. Everyone turned to look at her by the light of the two flashlights. "No, it's true. The oldest is the king. The second oldest is the second in command and so on, except us girls. We have our own."

"Do tell," Dylan said, staring at her with all the attention he could muster.

"Well, Sharpay would be the queen, because she's the oldest," Becca began. "And Sarah is the Vice Queen. And I'm the princess."

"There's no such thing as Vice Queen," Sarah complained.

"Make it up," I suggested. "Anyway, as king of this room, well, that and it's my room, I think we should play Truth or Dare. What do the loyal subjects think?" They nodded and shrugged like good loyal subjects. "Okay, I could totally get into this king thing. Anyway, are we going to…spin the flashlight to see who goes next?"

"That sounds like a plan," Chad said. "I mean, as second in command. Although, I do have one question. If the second in command didn't go in age order, you'd still pick me, right?"

"Of course, Chad," I said, rolling my eyes. "Who wants to spin first?"

"I'll do it," Sharpay volunteered. She spun the flashlight I'd put in the center of the circle we'd automatically formed when we walked in. It landed on Chad. "Truth or Dare, Chad?"

"Dare," Chad said, confidently. Sharpay smirked and started to say something, but I cut her off, thinking of a rule.

"And before I forget, let us not forget that there are those younger than us in this room, so anything non-age appropriate shall either be performed…somewhere else, or not at all," I said. "My closet is an appropriate place. The bathroom is as well."

"As I was saying, I dare you to take off your shirt, Chad," Sharpay said.

"That's it?" Chad complained. "Just take of my shirt?"

"My spider senses tell me we'll be here for a while," Sharpay said. "Take off your shirt." Chad sighed and stripped his shirt off before throwing it across my room so that it landed in a huge pile of his clothes that were starting to accumulate in my room since, like, the first grade. Even shirtless, Chad held no sexual appeal for me whatsoever. You know, even though he was all…athletic and stuff. Chad spun the flashlight, and it landed on Dylan.

"Okay, Dyl, truth or dare?" Chad asked.

"Truth," Dylan declared.

"Okay, tell us, is she your girlfriend, or what?" Chad asked. Dylan looked from Chad, to Becca, and back again before starting to laugh.

"Are you kidding? She's like my best friend!" Dylan said.

"Is that a yes or a no?" Chad asked. "We'll need an explicit answer."

"It's a no," Dylan said, before taking the flashlight and spinning it. It landed on me. I sighed. "Hey, big brother, truth or dare?"

"Dare," I said. "I'm no chicken."

"I dare you to got do something with Sharpay in the closet," Dylan said.

"What kind of something?" Sharpay asked before I could register what he'd said.

"Anything," Dylan said. "I don't care." I rolled my eyes, and grabbed Sharpay's arm before pulling her into my closet.

"What are we doing in here?" she whispered.

"Why? That scare you?" I whispered back.

"I have a boyfriend, and it's not you," she whispered back.

"Aw, she is scared," I whispered. "Scared of what big, bad Chad would do if he found the two of us doing something in the closet."

"Yes," Sharpay whispered. She sounded dead serious, so I decided to relieve her worries.

"Well, don't worry sister, because that ain't gonna happen," I said. She breathed an audible sign of relief. I opened the closet door and we emerged again and regained our seats.

"Well, what'd you do?" Dylan asked.

"Ah, that wasn't part of the question," I said. I spun the flashlight and it landed on Ryan, which of course was just my luck. "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," he said, in a tone even to that of mine when I had said it.

"Well, then, I dare you to…" I began. I was having a lot of fun coming up with dares in my head, but I couldn't actually use any of them without completely embarrassing him, or totally outing myself. "…um, do a little dance for us."

"Any dance in particular?" he asked, standing up and dropping his peach hat into Sharpay's lap.

"I don't care," I said. "Any one you want." He performed a little dance for us that looked much like the one he'd been making that morning. It probably was. There was applause for him when he was done. Then he sat down, retrieved his hat, and spun the flashlight. It landed on Sharpay.

"Truth or Dare, Shar," he asked.

"Truth," she said.

"Why are you going on with Chad?" he asked. Everyone in the room turned to stare at Sharpay.

"Well, at first it was to make Troy jealous," she said. "But that went down the drains pretty fast. Now, I'm not exactly sure."

"Then why don't you break up with him?" Ryan asked.

"I don't know," Sharpay replied. "Maybe I should." I suddenly got the best idea for how to get Chad out of Sharpay's uber-annoying relationship grasp. I waited around until it was my turn again (I had to do the Macarena on Becca's orders) and then spun the flashlight. Unbelievably, it landed on Sharpay, which was amazing.

"Truth or Dare?" I asked.

"Dare," Sharpay replied.

"Break up with Chad," I said. If Chad had been in a more private place, I'm sure he would have jumped for joy.

"What?" Sharpay asked.

"Break up with Chad," I repeated. "For good."

"You can't make me do that!" she argued.

"Well, it wasn't in the rules, and I am the king," I said. "Break up with Chad." Sharpay looked around the circle for help, but none came, not even from Ryan.

"Fine," Sharpay said. "Chad, we're over. If that's alright with you."

"It's fine," Chad said, trying his best to keep from jumping for joy. "I guess I can manage without you." I grinned and he grinned back at me. If he hadn't been sitting so far away, we probably would have high fived. Sharpay reached out to spin the flashlight, but I interrupted her.

"I need a drink, suddenly," I said. "Anyone want anything?"

"Actually, I'll come with you," Chuckie said.

"Can I have a Capri Sun?" Becca asked.

"Coming right up," I said, leaving the room, with Chuckie right behind me. Instead of going downstairs to the kitchen to get drinks, I pulled Chuckie into the guest room. It was dark in there.

"That was a clever ploy," he whispered.

"Which one? Getting Sharpay to break up with Chad, or getting you alone by myself?" I asked.

"Both," he replied. "Although if I hadn't caught on, you'd be fetching your brother's girlfriend a Capri Sun right now."

"Ah, well," I said. "So, power outages are…"

"…not the most romantical places ever," Chuckie finished. "Sure, it's dark, but the lights could come on at any second, and sometimes it's _too_ dark."

"Too dark for kissing?" I whispered.

"Shh! What if someone hears you?" he whispered hurriedly.

"No one will," I replied. "Come here." He advanced towards me, and we kissed for what was the fourth time, now, and counting. We also kissed for the fifth, sixth, and seventh times before a particularly loud laugh from my room next door brought us back to our senses.

"We were supposed to get drinks," Chuckie reminded me.

"The guest room looks like the kitchen in the dark," I said. Chuckie laughed softly, and we tiptoed out of the guest room and down to the kitchen to get Becca a Capri Sun. We hurried back upstairs.

"What did we miss?" Chuckie asked.

"Well, your sister shook her bootay for us," Chad said, laughing. I rolled my eyes. _Same old Chad._

"Is that all?" Chuckie asked. "Geez, she does that all the time." Sarah probably blushed, but it was too dark to tell. The game resumed. It was very late by the time my dad came upstairs and told us all to get to bed.

"Girls only in the guest room," my dad said. "Boys, anywhere but the guest room. Capisce?"

"Yeah," we said. Sarah, Sharpay, and Becca sighed and left with a flashlight for the guest room.

"What time is it?" Chad asked.

"Christmastime," Chuckie said, grinning. (**A/N: Out of curiosity, has anyone seen that video?**)

"Christmas bells are ringing…" Ryan began to sing to himself.

"Okay, who's staying here in my room?" I asked.

"I'm not going in my room," Dylan said. "It's dark. I'm scared."

"Okay, well, that pretty much sums it up," I said. "Chad, the linen closet…" Chad went to the linen closet and returned a little while later with a whole bunch of bed crap, and we all went to bed. We didn't really sleep that great, because, well, my parents were doing Christmas Eve stuff, if that gives you a little hint of…you know. How they managed to do that with all the lights out, I'll never figure out.

**A/N: The "Christmas bells are ringing…" is from my new favorite RENT song (Besides **_**Happy New Year A and B**_**). I just got the Broadway version today… Anyway, that's the ninth chapter. This is progressing awfully slowly, but it'll get there…I hope. So…I don't own HSM and stuff, okayz?**

**Thanks for reading and please review! (Bonus reviewing brownie points for anyone who can figure out why Chuckie's sister's name is Sarah.)**

**Samantha.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten December 25, 2002 ( Christmas Day )**

The power had, in fact, _not_ come back on by the time we woke up the next morning. Chad found a battery operated radio, and got an update, that the power would be out most of the day in most of the suburban regions of East.

"Yippee," I said. "But, it's Christmas. So…yippee!"

"Christmas!" Dylan shouted, springing off the floor and to the top of the stairs to peer down into the living room. "He was here!"

"I know," I said. "Congratulations on figuring that out."

"Well, let's open our presents!" Dylan said, attaching himself to my arm and attempting to drag me out of bed.

"I'll be right there. Why don't you get Mom, Dad, and the girls up?" I said. Dylan raced out of the room. Ryan went to keep him from being killed by Sharpay, and Chad went to use the bathroom. I poked Chuckie in the side.

"Ow," he remarked.

"Wake up," I teased in a sing-song voice.

"I don't wanna," he said. "Five more minutes."

"You're gonna miss it," I said.

"I don't wanna go to school today, Mom, can I stay home?" he asked.

"Chuckie, wake up this instant. It is Christmas morning!" I commanded. He immediately sat up.

"What?" he asked.

"It's Christmas, dude," I said.

"Oh, happy Christmas," he said, laying back down and snuggling into his blankets.

"Chuckie, get up. You get to watch me and the kids open our presents," I said. "Then you and Sarah can go home and unwrap yours."

"Oh," he grumbled. "Good morning, then." He rolled over, and sat up. "It's morning."

"What are you, drunk? Of course!" I said. "I've only said that six times."

"It's Christmas!" he remarked gleefully.

"Yes," I said.

"Why am I at your house?" he asked.

"The power's out," I said. "Do you not remember last night?"

"I had a dream that I was riding a unicorn," he began.

"Poor unicorn," I said.

"Shut up. And I named her Molly," he said.

"Well, that's much better than the dog you had when you were little that you named _Snoopy_," I said.

"I miss Snoopy," Chuckie said. "Oh well."

"At least he didn't sit on top on his doghouse," I said.

"He would have if he could have," Chuckie said. "Okay, I'm up. Where's the presents?"

"Your house," I said. He groaned, but I prevented him from laying back down. "Come on." I pulled him to his feet, and we joined Sarah, Becca, and my parents in going downstairs. Sharpay and Ryan emerged from the guest room, both yawning and joined us.

"Whoa!" Sarah remarked when we got downstairs. Not only was the tree run by some kind of battery power, all the presents from Chuckie and Sarah's house had been brought over.

"Me likey," Chuckie said. "Santa Claus really did come to town."

"And there's even a couple presents for Becca," my mother said, pointing to a small pile that "Santa Claus" left.

"Yay!" Becca said, excitedly.

**Nine. Hours. Later…**

We were finished. Every present had been opened. Every speck of wrapping paper was in a ginormous trash bag to take to the recycling center. Every toy had been opened, every box thrown across the room and into the hall. And it was only 5 at night. I was amazed. What with the eight kids and four parents, I really would have expected it to take a lot longer. It was beginning to get dark again.

"I wish we could turn on the lights," Chad complained. "It's getting dark again." As if on cue, the lights flickered on.

"I like him," Becca said to Dylan. "He's magic."

"I know, right?" Dylan said. I rolled my eyes.

"Dude, you shoulda done that last night," I said. "We wouldn't have had to share our room with Dylan." Chad lust laughed.

"Okay, well, we promised Mr. and Mrs. Jones we'd being her back as soon as the power came back on," my mom said. "So, Becca, honey, grab your stuff. You're going home."

"Aw, man do I have to?" Becca asked.

"Yes," my mom said. Becca sighed and went to collect her stuff. Dylan went to help.

"So, how was this Christmas?" Chuckie asked me, quietly.

"The best one ever," I replied. He smiled. We both knew it was because Ryan was there, but we both pretended it wasn't. Mr. and Mrs. Brown started gathering up all the stuff that went back to their house. Sarah helped them. An hour later, Chad and I were just sitting around. Sharpay was talking to us. We were pretending to listen. Ryan was actually listening. I couldn't figure out how he could actually pay attention, but whatever. So, Chuckie walked through, carrying the last of all his crap.

"Bye," he said.

"Bye," the rest of us said. He paused for a second or two, and then left the room. I paused while thinking what I should do, and then followed him.

"Hey," I called after him. He was standing on the porch, just about to leave.

"Hey," he said.

"You didn't think I'd let you leave like that did you?" I asked.

"Well, seeing how Ryan's in there…yeah," he said. "Look, I don't think this is such a good idea."

"Yes it is," I said. "C'mon, you know you want to."

"Yeah, I do," he said. "But you don't."

"That doesn't matter to me," I said. "What matters to me is that you're happy."

"Well, I am happy," he said.

"Then I'm happy," I said. "So, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," he said. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," I said. He left and disappeared into the dark towards his house. I walked back inside, and shut the front door, sighing.

"What's up, man?" Chad asked, walking down the hall towards me.

"Nothing," I said, walking past him into the living room. My spirits involuntarily brightened when I saw Ryan, and I felt sick to my stomach, and made a flimsy excuse to go to my room. When I got there, I looked out my window, and saw Chuckie dancing about his room merrily. I smiled.

A week and a half later (January 6, 2003), we were all back to school. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had sent their driver to pick up Sharpay and Ryan New Year's Day. Chad had gone home on the 27th. The big game vs. West Middle School was coming up on Friday. Tension ran high for us awesome people on the team.

"Guys," Coach Murray said to us. "This is the biggest game of the year. If you win this, we go on to the play-offs." The team looked around excitedly. "It's not such a big deal in middle school, but it would impress Coach Bolton up at the high school. He'll be there."

"He always comes to our games," Jason said.

"Yeah," Chad said. "He comes to watch Troy."

"This time he'll be watching all of you, especially you eighth graders," Coach Murray said. _Noted_, I thought to myself. I didn't care if my dad came to watch us or not. "Now I want you to break into two teams and scrimmage." We didn't dare question Coach Murray's authority. We split into two teams, and scrimmaged. My team won, but did I need to tell you that? Really. (Lose the cocky attitude, already, Troy.) ((Don't leave notes in my story, Ryan!)) (Kelsi left notes in mine!) ((That's beside the point.))

Anyway, by Friday, tension was running high all throughout the school all morning. Until Health Class, when, for some indiscernible reason, they decided to give us "The Talk".

"I hear we get the Talk today," Chad said to me as we walked from English to Health with the rest of our homeroom.

"Excellent," I said, sarcastically. "That's exactly what you need."

"What?! That's ridiculous!" Chad said.

"Ha," I said. We walked into the class and took our seats.

"Hi, Troy," Sharpay said, as she sat down, like she did whenever she sat down. It must have been a reflex.

"No, Sharpay," I said. Also a reflex.

"In your dreams, Bolton," Sharpay said, as Ryan sat down behind her.

So, we go the Talk. And if that wasn't embarrassing enough, when Mr. Morin was finished, the class wasn't over, so we got to watch an educational video on where babies come from. It was not enjoyable. When the bell finally rang, it was for lunch, and no one was hungry.

"I think The Talk is something invented by people at West to keep us from winning games," Chad said, disgusted, as we sat at our table at lunch.

"I think it was interesting," Zeke said.

"You think everything is interesting," I said. "Including but not limited to: cake, girls, cookies, girls, basketball, girls, blue scented pens for some reason, oh and girls!"

"Yeah," Zeke said, dreamily. His gaze drifted off in the direction of the cheerleader's table. I rolled my eyes. The cheerleaders were all dressed up in nice skirts and stuff. We were dressed in nice clothes too. Apparently it's like a rule or something. I dunno.

By the time the game came that afternoon, we were all nervous again, and tension was running high. The boys and I hung out in the locker room, not really listening to Coach Murray talk about the game. We were preoccupied with not thinking about The Talk, or in some peoples' case, thinking about the cheerleaders in the next locker room, who, if you listened really hard, you could hear practicing.

"Okay," Coach Murray was saying. "We really have to kick butt today! This is a very important game. I think it's time for us to go. Do we all know how the lineup goes?"

"We're not stupid," Chad said. Coach Murray rolled his eyes, as if not believing that. Zeke poked Jason awake, and we all went into the gym. The cheerleaders were cheering for us, as we emerged. We all took our seats on one side of the gym.

"Wildcats, sing along, yeah you really got it going on! Wildcats in the house everybody say it now! Wildcats everywhere, wave your hands up in the air. That's the way we do it, let's get to it, time to show the world," the cheerleaders cheered. In the front row center was Sharpay, believe it or not. I hate to admit it, but she was hot. On either side of her, in the back row (there were two rows, like in a zig zag…) were Ruby and Sapphire, identical twins. They had black hair and green eyes. They were pretty cool, but we didn't know them that well. The other cheerleaders were there too, but they aren't as important.

So, then, the announcer guy (whose name was JC) called Sharpay up to the podium so she could sing the national anthem. I was thankful that she and Ryan hadn't decided to completely butcher it. Or, I don't think that occurred to me at the time, but I'm thankful for that now.

Okay, so we played the game. Blah, blah, blah, boring, right? Yes. Well, as expected East won, of course, 46-32. We creamed them. Their team was terrible that year. I don't know why. Anyway, yeah, we won. There was no singing involved afterwards, but then again, we hadn't won, like, a championship or anything. The game started at 3:30, and was finished by 5, and the girl's game started. We stayed to watch, as, like, moral support or something, and also because Sarah was on the girl's team. They won too, which was kind of cool, 30-27. Their game was much closer. The game was over much quicklier, and was done by 6:15, which was cool, because the dance was at 7 to 9:30. Or, technically, "Activity Night". There was dancing in the cafeteria, and the gym was split into two, to play basketball and soccer. EMS students only. Whatever. I took a shower in the locker room, and was thankfully _not_ accosted by anyone (especially certain someones I could mention….) and changed into something more appropriate for an Activity Night, i.e. jeans and a button down shirt.

7 o'clock arrived, and they started charging us admission, or whatever. Anyway, Chuckie and I ventured into the cafeteria, helped ourselves to free food and drinks, and sat promptly down on a table to watch the other people dance around. Sharpay, with Ryan in tow, came by our table. Sharpay opened her mouth to say something.

"No, Sharpay," Chuckie and I said at the same time. She made a noise in aggravation, and then stormed off. Ryan, of course, followed her like a puppy. Ruby and Sapphire, the previously aforementioned hot cheerleaders came up to us and sat down on either side of us.

"Can we help you?" I asked.

"I'm Ruby," the one sitting next to Chuckie said. "And that's my sister, Sapphire." She pointed at the one sitting next to me.

"Can we help you?" I repeated.

"So what's the deal with you two?" Sapphire asked. "Are you like, brothers…or like…boyfriends…?" Chuckie and I exchanged glances.

"Nothing's the deal with us," I said. "At all."

"Oh, so then we can dance with you?" Ruby asked, pulling Chuckie off the table and onto the dance floor. I smirked, and followed Sapphire. We danced for a while. Sharpay, across the room, dancing with the random basketball player of her choice, saw us and looked like she might explode. I smirked at her as well. She glared at me. After a few songs, Ruby and Sapphire brought us back to our table.

"So, still not gay?" Sapphire asked us.

"Can you keep a secret?" I asked.

"Duh, we're twins," Ruby said. I didn't know what that had to do with it, but whatever.

"Yeah, we're gay," Chuckie said. "Or, I am. How'd you know?"

"Cuz it's you guys," Ruby said. "I mean, you have to be really dumb not to figure it out."

"No one else has," I pointed out.

"We go to school with a bunch of dumb people," Sapphire said. "But you can trust us. We won't tell anyone."

"Promise?" I asked.

"Pinky promise," Ruby said, offering her pinky to me. We pinky promised. That's a little dumb.

"So, seriously, how'd you know?" Chuckie asked.

"We overheard you at the party last summer," Sapphire said, grinning.

"And then we sent your little brother in," Ruby said, giggling. "You can't say we don't have fun."

"No, I'm sure you have a lot of fun," I said. "At our disposal."

"Schadenfreude," Sapphire offered.

"That's German for 'happiness at the misfortune of others'," Ruby explained.

"We had an uncle in Germany for a while," Sapphire said.

"Why was he _there_?" Chuckie asked.

"The war," Sapphire said vaguely. This made no sense to us, but whatever again.

"So, this Schadenfreude thing," I said, "it's not very nice."

"I know," Sapphire said. "But it's funny. Ooh, look at Sharpay."

"You know Sharpay?" I asked, forgetting where they came from for a moment.

"Uh, doesn't everyone?" Ruby asked. "She's the captain of our cheerleading team."

"Oh right," I said. "Go on."

"Right, look at her. She is angry," Ruby said, peering over at Sharpay and waving innocently.

"We're gonna get hell tomorrow," Sapphire said. "Or Monday."

"Yeah," Ruby said. "So, you two and us, next dance? It's on Valentine's Day."

"Uh, sure," Chuckie said. "Are you in our homeroom?"

"No," Sapphire said. "We're in Mrs. Whitney's. You have Darbus, right?"

"Unfortunately," I said. "See, most people, like you, for example, get a new homeroom teacher every year. Darbus has been following us around since kindergarten."

"It's not that bad," Ruby said. "At least that's familiar."

"But what happens if she follows us to college like Mr. Feeny on Boy Meets World?" Chuckie asked.

"You watch too much television," Sapphire said. "Care to dance again?" I shot a look over to Sharpay, who was sitting at a table, surrounded by sports dudes, glaring at me, but talking to them.

"Yeah," I said.

"You are evil," Chuckie remarked to me.

"Oh, I know," I said. "Sharpay is so mad right now."

"Yeah," Ruby said, as she pulled Chuckie away to dance. "This is fun. No one on the team likes her."

"Sorry about that," I called.

**A/N: Wow, that's a fast chapter, compared to the last few… So. Ruby and Sapphire were two really hot identical cheerleaders I invented to serve this express purpose. See my profile for a full explanation on all my OCs. (Warning, therein lies spoilers…)**

**Anyway, I own HSM. I also invented the Hubble telescope and Stealth Bomber. Oh, and I wrote the Harry Potter books. I'm also married to Christopher Warren, Jr. (Or at least, my mom seems to think so…) As you can tell, I'm being sarcastic again. I really don't.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review! I like reviews! They give me inspiration to write more!**

**Samantha.**

**PS. Funny story. I have to start being careful what I do to the people in my stories, For instance, the power went out in this story, and the power went out at my house! About a month ago, I sent one of my characters to the hospital in a different bit of this story (the Missing Files) and the next night, my sister wound up in the hospital. Don't worry, though, she's totally fine.**

**Anyway…**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven Wednesday, February 12, 2003 ( Two days before the Valentine's Dance. )**

"Did you hear?" Chuckie whispered to me in study hall.

"About what?" I asked.

"Cliff Harrison," he replied.

"Who in the name of all things good and holy would even think about naming their kid that?" I asked.

"He's the high school star quarterback," Chuckie said. "The gay one."

"Yeah, I know who he is," I said. "He still has the world's worst name."

"He came out," Chuckie said.

"When?" I asked.

"Yesterday," Chuckie said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Nobody knows," he said. "But then some assholes from his team got really mean, and he punched their lights out."

"Cliff punched some homophobic asshole's lights out?" I asked.

"Yeah," Chuckie said. "He had to go to the hospital and everything."

"Nice," I said.

"Cliff got a detention," Chuckie said.

"Is that all?" I asked. Chuckie nodded. "And I care why?"

"Because you're _gay_," he said.

"So are you." I responded.

"Yeah, but no one that knows me is going to deny that. You're Troy Bolton," he said. "_Troy Bolton_. Do you get the picture?"

"No," I said.

"In five years, you will be _the_ guy in our high school," he said. "Basketball season will be over. You'll be just waiting for the school year to end, and we'll probably end up at the Prom with Ruby and Sapphire…"

"That would be awesome," I said. "Why did you bring this up?"

"Because what happens when you decide you want to come out?" he asked. I suddenly realized there were a whole bunch of people around, although no one seemed to be listening.

"Um, I do?" I guessed.

"No," Chuckie said. "You have to self defend yourself against the homophobic assholes on the football team."

"And so you're saying, I should just…not?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I'm saying you have to be careful. You're Troy Bolton."

"You can stop saying that," I said. "But what about you?"

"You don't worry about me," he said. "I'm Chuckie. No one cares about me."

"Aw, that's not true," I said. "I care about you." He snorted. "I do! And if any homophobic assholes are out to get you, then I'll punch em out for ya."

"Thanks," Chuckie said, smiling, even though he really didn't mean it. I did mean it, though. If any homophobic asshole ever tried anything on anyone, I'd stand up for em. Cuz I'm against that. And it's bad. I'm also against racism and sexism, although I'm not sure where those fit in.

Friday, I met up with Ruby and Sapphire after school.

"Hey girls," I said.

"Hey, Troy," Ruby said. "Where's Chuckie? Don't tell me I'm all by myself."

"Nah, he'll be at the dance," I said. "He has to. Otherwise I'll drag him out of his house by his…"

"Ear?" Sapphire suggested.

"Sure," I said. "So, what's new?"

"Nothing," Sapphire said. "I still hate the seventh grade."

"Did you hear about Cliff Harrison?" Ruby asked.

"Why does everyone have to bring him up?" I asked. "My dad already talked to me about him, dissing homosexual athletes for all they're worth, which, evidently, isn't much. I wanted to punch him, but he would have grounded me, or something else dumb like that. Chuckie already talked to me about it, telling me to 'be careful' because I'm 'Troy Bolton' or something else dumb like that. And Principal Hatcher already gave us an assembly about how we should embrace the thought of unity, or something else dumb like _that_."

"Well, you _do_ have to be careful," Sapphire said. "You're Troy Bolton." I raised my eye brows. "You know, Troy Bolton!"

"So, we've established my name…" I said. "Anything else you want to say?"

"No, that was pretty much it," Sapphire said.

"Well, I'm not afraid," I said. "I don't care."

"You're not going to go jump on any tables and just…come out, are you?" Ruby asked. "Because it doesn't seem like something you're emotionally ready for."

"How would you know?" I asked.

"Cliff Harrison's our brother," Sapphire said.

"Ohh," I said. "Oh. Oh, well. This is weird then."

"Yeah," Ruby said. "We don't really remember five years ago, cuz we were, like, seven, but we think he was going through the same thing you are right now."

"No, nothing in the world can be as complicated as this," I said.

"Troy, hon," Sapphire said. "We know about the Evanses."

"Oh, okay, then," I said. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ruby said. "We're not stupid."

"Fine," I said. "But, wait a sec, your last name's not Harrison."

"No," Ruby said. "That's…a long story."

"Mostly, our mom divorced his dad before we were born," Sapphire said. "But kept the last name…"

"Okay, I didn't ask," I said. There was a pause.

"Our last name's Eaton, Troy," Sapphire supplied. "Thanks for asking."

"I know," I said. "Thanks for sharing."

"Is it time to go to the dance yet?" Ruby asked.

"No," I replied. "It's only 4."

"Shouldn't you be at home?" Sapphire asked. "I don't know, say, getting ready for the dance?"

"It takes me, like, ten minutes to get ready," I said. "Plus my dad's my ride home." My dad happened upon us just then and informed me it was time to go home. We got in the car and my dad struck up probably the most awkward conversation it was possible to have.

"So, which one of those girls are you dating?" my dad asked.

"Uh, neither," I said. "Sapphire's just my date to the dance."

"Uh-huh," my dad said. "That's what they all say."

"It's the truth!" I said. "We're just friends."

"You just said she was your date," my dad said.

"Forget it, dad, I'm not discussing this with you," I said. We didn't speak again until we got home, and which point I scurried up the stairs so that I didn't have to answer anymore questions. I heard my parents talking downstairs.

"What happened to you two?" my mom said.

"He's denying that he's dating one of the Eaton twins," my dad said.

"You mean those cheerleaders he's always talking to?" my mom said. "They're such nice girls. Not like Sharpay Evans."

"Why can't he just date someone sensible?" my dad said. "Like…Sarah Brown." Man, if they knew what she did in her free time… I sighed and stopped listening. My parents needed to get a serious clue. I sat down in my window and stared across the street. A girl and guy (who I assumed where Sarah and her current soccer player boyfriend of the hour) were in Sarah's room. I couldn't see anything in Chuckie's window. I assumed he was sitting on his bed, reading a book like he did a lot. Or, at least, I did, until I saw him down on my lawn. I opened my window.

"What are you doing down there?" I asked.

"Come on down," he said.

"Bad idea," I said. He shrugged a sort of "your loss" shrug, and proceeded to leave. "Wait, come back." He came back, and I jumped from my window to the tree, and climbed down.

"You're good at that," he said.

"Yeah, I figure it'll come in handy when I want to go to parties and mom and dad won't let me," I said. "Whatcha doing here?"

"I'm not going to the dance," he said.

"And that's because you're…running away from home?" I asked, looking around for a suitcase. I didn't see one.

"No, because I'm not going," he said.

"But I already promised Ruby you would," I said. "C'mon, she'll be mad if you don't go. She'd come to your house and pull you out by your ear."

"I bet she would," he said. "But I'm still not going."

"Yes, you are," I said.

"Make me," he said, opening his arms wide in a challenging gesture.

"I will," I said. "You are my boyfriend, and we are going to the Valentine's Dance."

"You know, your parents could have just heard you say that," Chuckie said. "You didn't even look around first."

"I don't care," I said. "How's that?!"

"A little weird," he said. "Did you eat some…funny brownies?"

"No!" I said. "My parents aren't that old. I'm serious."

"Doesn't sound like you," he said. "Who are you and what have you done with Troy Bolton?" I rolled my eyes.

"So are you going to the dance?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"What are you afraid of?" I asked.

"Everything!" he said. "Especially getting kicked off the basketball team because I'm gay! Basketball's basically the only thing I have."

"That's not true," I said. "You have me. And you have your family. And you have all that…other stuff you do."

"But how much longer do I have you?" he asked. "Eventually you'll get bored of me, and drop me for Ryan."

"You'd still have me," I said. "Eventually you'll get a real boyfriend too. And we'll still be friends."

"You promise?" he asked.

"Of course," I said. "Pinky promise." We pinky promised. "Now get ready. We're leaving in an hour." It was already five o'clock. He smiled at me, pausing a moment before giving me a hug and hurrying back to his house. I eyed my window warily, before going in the side door and hurrying back upstairs. Dylan was sitting on the floor in the center of my room.

"So, here's a good story," he said. "I was waiting in the hall for you to come out so I could talk to you, and then you didn't come out for a while, and so I came in here, and it turns you went out your window."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "Your point?" I picked up the screen that goes on my window that I'd taken out so many times that one of these days it was just going to fall off and stay there and put it back in my window, then closed the window.

"My point it you went out your window!" he said.

"And that's…bad?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "You're not supposed to."

"No, _you're_ not supposed to," I said. "I can do whatever I want."

"Why?" Dylan asked.

"Because _I_ am 12, and _you_ are 9," I said. "And so there."

"Whatever," Dylan said. He left and I heard him slam the door to his room.

"Don't slam doors!" my mom yelled from downstairs. I could have predicted that she'd say that. The phone rang from downstairs. Someone answered it, someone who I assumed to be my mother, especially when she yelled "TROY!" up the stairs. I went over to the top of the stairs.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Do you want the girls to come over here and pick you up, or can you find your own ride?" she asked.

"Why are you asking me?" I asked. "You're the one who has to drive me if you say no." My mom turned back to the phone.

"Yes, that would be lovely," she said. "About what time would you be here to pick him up?" I went back into my room. My mom could be really weird sometimes. An hour later, Ruby and Sapphire were in my living room, waiting for me to figure out which direction I wanted to comb my hair, not that it mattered. It was a semi-formal occasion, of course, I was wearing nice clothes. When I got down to the living room, I found my parents talking to Mr. and Mrs. Eaton. I cleared my throat to let them know of my arrival. My mom came over and straightened my shirt (like it mattered) and then started informing me of "the rules". Chuckie showed up about halfway through these rules, and smirked. He'd gotten the same talk before he'd left the house, I could tell. Ruby was wearing a maroon dress, and Sapphire was wearing a navy one. We all piled into Mr. and Mrs. Eaton's minivan, and they drove us to the dance. We all held a conversation in the backseat.

"So," Ruby said.

"So," I repeated.

"This should be fun," Sapphire said.

"Why are you going with us?" I asked. "I mean, it's not like we're real 'boyfriend' material." I could tell Mr. and Mrs. Eaton were eavesdropping from the front seats, but I didn't really care.

"We like to do our part for society," Ruby said.

"I still can't believe I didn't know you were Cliff's sisters," I said. "It's such a small world."

"You're Cliff Harrison's sisters?" Chuckie asked. Ruby and Sapphire nodded. "Wow. Impressive."

"Yeah," Sapphire said. "Not so much. So, Troy, did you get that whole 'I don't want homos messing up my team' speech from your dad, yet?"

"No, I think he's saving that one for the next time it comes up," I said. "I did get the 'they get into your brain and screw around in there' speech though."

"Oh, that's a new one," Ruby said. "Haven't heard that one. How's it go?"

"Pretty much like I just said," I said. "It's not true."

"It could be," Chuckie said, fairly. "I mean, really."

"Are you trying to say that you got inside my head, convinced me I had a crush on Ryan, and then used that as material to ask you out?" I asked. "Cuz that seems a little far-fetched."

"Yes, that is exactly what I'm getting at," he said.

"So," Sapphire said, changing the subject, "who do you think Sharpay is bringing to the dance?"

"Doesn't she have that new guy, Will?" I asked. "The one on JV?"

"Yeah, I think so," Chuckie said. "JV sucks."

"Yeah they do," Ruby said. "Sometimes they're not even worth cheering for." I laughed. "No, really."

"No, I know," I said. "I was laughing because I forgot you two were cheerleaders."

"Yeah, we have that problem," Sapphire said. "I don't look good in red."

"Of course you do," I said.

"No, Ruby looks good in red," Sapphire argued.

"You're identical twins," I said. "You both look good in everything!"

"So, Troy," Ruby said, changing the subject, "what is this affinity you seem to have with twins?"

"Whaddya mean?" I asked.

"Well, me and Sapphire are twins, and Chuckie and Sarah are twins, and Sharpay and Ryan are twins…" Ruby said. "What is this thing you have for twins?"

"I don't have a thing for twins!" I said. "There's just…a lot. Of them. Around. Me."

"Sure," Sapphire said, rolling her eyes. The car came to a halt in a parking space outside the school and we all hopped out. Mr. and Mrs. Eaton were chaperoning. The dance itself was boring. For about the first six and a half minutes. Then Sharpay showed up. She "happened" to walk by the table were Sapphire, Ruby, Chuckie, Chad, and his date, Erica (another cheerleader, go figure), were sitting.

"Girls," Sharpay regarded her cheerleaders, who all flashed huge fake smiles at her. "Boys." I moved an ear, a move I'd been perfecting for about a week. Chuckie waved and Chad didn't do anything at all. "So."

"No, Sharpay," all six of us said at the same time.

"Fine," Sharpay said. She and Will stalked off to where Ryan and Kelsi were sitting. Jason and his cheerleader, Aimee, came over to our table.

"Can't we ever find dates that aren't cheerleaders?" I asked no one in particular. Chuckie laughed.

"So, where's Zeke?" Jason asked.

"Oh, I think I remember him saying he couldn't come," Chad said. "Something about a grandparent or a hospital…maybe both."

"Aw," I said. "That's too bad. Poor Zeke."

"Yeah," Chad said. "Anyhoo, why can't we ever find dates that aren't cheerleaders?"

"Because no one else likes us," I said. "We're too egotistical."

"That would do it," Chuckie said, shrugging. Chad frowned at him for a moment before shaking his head and looking away.

"You don't think she's going to get up there and sing, do you?" Chad asked, obviously referring to Sharpay.

"Hope not," Ruby, Erica, Aimee, and I all said at the same time. Then we laughed.

"If it were up to her, she would," Sapphire said. "Fortunately, it's up to Principal Hatcher and Ms. Darbus."

"Well, then, I wouldn't put it past them," Aimee said, laughing.

"Me neither," I said. "She has Ms. Darbus right in her hip pocket. You know, if she ever wore anything with pockets."

"No, that's too unfashionable," Erica said, laughing. "Heaven forbid you actually have a pocket."

"Maybe pockets are just out this season," Chuckie said. "I seem to remember I was reading in– Why is everyone giving me that look?"

"We're not," Chad said. "Sorry, go on."

"Never mind," he said.

"So, does anyone actually know which musical they're doing this semester?" I asked. "Not that I care, but it would be interesting to freak her out with our knowledge of what it is."

"I thought they were doing, um, Les Mis," Erica said.

"Oh, that's a good book," Chuckie said. "It's about–" He was interrupted by the sound system, that started playing a "good song" according to Ruby and Sapphire, and they pulled us off to the dance floor portion of the cafeteria. Aimee, Jason, Erica, and Chad weren't far behind. Sharpay contented herself with frowning at us. We repeated this cycle of alternately talking about nothing and dancing until the dance was over, and they made us leave. Mr. and Mrs. Eaton drove us home.

"So, wasn't that fun?" Ruby asked us.

"Yeah," Chuckie said. "It was. Oddly enough."

"Why does Chad keep looking at you funny when you start to say stuff?" Sapphire asked.

"Oh, it's cuz he knows, and he's, like, spotting me, or something," Chuckie said. "As if I need a spot."

"Sure," Sapphire said. "So, he knows about you, and not him, right?"

"That is correct," I said. "And that's the way uh-huh uh-huh we like it uh-huh uh-huh."

"Dude," Chuckie said. "Not judging? A little gay."

"Thanks," I said. "But seriously though, I mean…I don't remember. What do I mean?"

"I have no idea," Sapphire said.

"Me neither," Ruby said helpfully. Chuckie just shrugged.

"Okay, helpful," I said. "So when my parents ask me if I kissed any girls tonight, and I say no, they'll be…happy, right? Because they told me not to before I left the house."

"I think you do a lot of things your parents tell you not to, but…" Sapphire said. Then she leaned over and kissed my cheek. "That's one of the better ones."

"Aw," I said. "Thanks. You're cute too."

"I didn't even think of that one," Sapphire said. "You're really cute. It's a shame you're gay…"

"Yeah, well, what about you two?" I asked. "Any real boyfriends in your future?"

"No," Ruby said. "We have already decided that we are going to marry identical blond twins. And, well, there just aren't a lot of those around."

"There's really not," I said. "Dibs on Ryan."

"You can have him," Sapphire said. "I'm not interested." Ruby just blushed. "She likes him." I just laughed. "Ruby, you cannot have Ryan Evans. He may be cute, but he's gay, and Troy has dibs."

"Fair enough," Ruby giggled. I rolled my eyes. The car came to a stop in my driveway (or it could have been a sketchy abandoned parking lot where they were planning on sacrificing us to the Gods of sketchy abandoned parking lots. I couldn't tell in the dark) and we all got out. Sapphire and Ruby accompanied us into the house, as did Mr. and Mrs. Eaton. My parents thanked them for driving us, because they had to stay home and watch Dylan, blah, blah, blah. Then the Eatons left and Chuckie went home.

"How was the dance?" Dylan asked, as I passed his room.

"Fine," I said, continuing into mine.

"Didja kiss your girlfriend?" Dylan asked, following me.

"She's not my girlfriend, and no," I said. "Go back to your own room."

"Okay, but I'm watching you," he said. He went back into his room. I could tell that he was onto me, but what could he possibly do? He was three years younger than me. I don't think he would've understood. I think he was just making sure I didn't break any more rules (i.e. kissing my girlfriend, climbing out my window…). It still made me uneasy.

**A/N: Whoa. So, I'm really cranking these out faster, huh? Just say yes and nod along. I do not recommend that anyone try popping the screen out of their window and climbing out it. It's a bad idea, and I'm not promoting it. On a more interesting note, I don't own…High School Musical, as usual. I will, however, (hopefully) own a copy of HSM: the Concert DVD as of tomorrow… (Fingers crossed!!)**

**Anyhoo, thanks for reading (it warms my heart) and please review (it fills my heart with cake and puppies (something me and my friends say)). So. Yeah. Do that.**

**Samantha.**

**PS, it didn't even occur to me until about six hours ago, that their power goes off on Christmas Eve in RENT, and it did a couple chapters ago. That was completely unintentional. (And I don't own that either!)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve Saturday, March 23, 2003. (A Saturday in March.)  
–In Which The Board of Secrets Is Created, Bets Are Made, And Chuckie Hooks Troy On B'Way.**

"So, Troy," Chad said, "what's happening?"

"Why?" I asked, suspiciously. I'd been called down from my room to talk on the phone with Chad, who had called.

"The guys and I just wanted to come over," Chad said.

"Why can't you just hang out at your own house?" I asked.

"Because you're not supposed to leave your house, and we wanted to hang with you too," Chad said. I wasn't supposed to leave the property as punishment for climbing out my window. Dylan is a major tattletale.

"Fine come over then," I said.

"Coolz," Chad said. "If your mom asks, we're throwing you a birthday party."

"Awesome," I said. "But my birthday was last Sunday."

"I know," Chad said. "Be there soon." I hung the phone up. My mom stared at me.

"Chad and the guys are coming over to throw me a birthday party," I said, before immediately evacuating the hall.

"Stop. Come back," my mom said. I turned around to look at her.

"I'm not leaving the property, and there will be no climbing out my window," I said. "Okay?"

"And they all go home by seven," my mom added.

"Fine," I said. "They're all gone by seven." Being grounded sucks. Having a tattling little brother sucks more. Twenty minutes later, Chad, Jason, and Zeke were all sitting around my bedroom.

"So," Chad said.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"This," Chad said, unfurling a piece of paper. It was blank. I began to wonder if maybe _Chad_ was schizophrenic.

"What the hell is that?" I asked.

"It's the Board of Secrets," Chad said.

"That's a piece of paper," I said. "And blank, at that."

"Just pretend it's a Board of Secrets," Zeke said.

"If we wrote 'The Board of Secrets' across it in big letters would that help?" Jason asked. I shrugged.

"Okay, so what about it?" I asked.

"Well, we were thinking – and by we I mean I – that we – again I – should write all those secrets down somewhere," Chad said. "Before we – I – forget."

"Go ahead. You don't need my permission," I said.

"We had another idea," Zeke said.

"Yes?" I asked.

"To take bets on what we thought the secrets were," Chad said. "And other stuff that you can bet on."

"I'm not s'posed to gamble," I said. There was a knock on my bedroom door. "Yeah?" I asked. Chuckie walked in.

"Thanks for inviting me," he said.

"We didn't not do it on purpose," Chad said. "We thought Troy would tell you."

"Troy," Chuckie said, imploringly.

"I'm not s'posed to use the phone," I said. "Or leave the property."

"Never mind," Zeke said. "You're here now. So, bets."

"Bets?" Chuckie asked. Chad quickly explained about these bets, before taking a yellow sheet of paper out of his pocket.

"Indeed," Jason said, randomly. We all shook our heads.

"So, I wrote down some sample bets," Chad said. "Like, for instance–"

"How many cheerleaders does it take to screw in a light bulb?" Jason interrupted.

"No one knows," I replied. "What are the bets?" Chad handed me the paper and I looked down it and started giggling. Chuckie looked over my shoulder. When I was finished, I handed it back to Chad. "Those are good."

"I know," Chad said. "So, who wants to bet?"

"How much are we betting? And who?" I asked.

"A couple bucks," Chad said. "And betting is open to the entire basketball team, as well as any cheerleaders, unless the bet is about a certain person."

"It's also open to the other people we've let in on our thing," Zeke said. "Which is no one yet, but there might be in the future."

"Sounds good," I said. We spent the next hour and a half making bets that ranged from when Sharpay would lose her virginity (I bet her 18th birthday. She's not the slut she pretends to be) to who would be the first of the six of us married (I bet Chad, because it sure as hell wasn't gonna be me). Time would tell that I am amazing at this, because both guesses were right, even though the "who would be the first to get married" eventually way in the future evolved into "who is gonna get engaged first (Chad and Taylor, Zeke and Sharpay, Jason and Kelsi, or me and Ryan)". I was still right, though, just because I'm awesome like that. Evidently I have psychic abilities. Who knew? When we were finished, we just sat around chatting.

"So, how about that war?" Jason asked. It was the first intelligent thing he'd said all day. I was impressed. The war was still a controversial subject. It had just started on Wednesday.

"Sucks," Chad said. "Next thing you know, Bush is gonna win the 2004 election, the troops are gonna be there forever, and inflation will be so bad that gas will be above 4 bucks a gallon."

"That would suck," I said.

"I don't know," Jason said. "The troops can't be there forever. Eventually the sun will explode and engulf the earth. Then they couldn't be there because there wouldn't be a there to be."

"That's true," I said, pointing at him.

"And there is no way Bush can win an election," Zeke said. "I mean, he didn't even win the 2000 election."

"Yeah, that was totally rigged!" Chad said.

"And 4 bucks a gallon is way too much to pay for gas," Chuckie said. "Maybe cars will run on something besides gas. You know, stop global warming."

"Oh yeah, and that's gonna be terrible too," Chad said. "Really." We sat around chatting about terrible things happening to the world (i.e. Iraq War, global warming, George Bush) for a long, long time. I just managed to get them gone by seven o'clock, and my mom was very impressed. So she said the next time I could have them over until nine. I was like whatever, but it was cool.

"So, guess what I got?" Chuckie announced when I went back up to my room.

"Gonorrhea?" I guessed.

"Ew!" Chuckie said. "From who?"

"Chad," I said, knowingly.

"Chad has gonorrhea?" Chuckie asked.

"No. Never mind," I said. "What did you get?" He held up a CD that he'd obviously been holding all afternoon and was very excited to show me. "It's a CD?"

"Yeah!" Chuckie exclaimed excitedly.

"That's great," I said. "But…I have a lot of CD's…"

"No, this one is awesome, look," he said. He showed me the CD. On the front was a picture on Charlie Brown from _Peanuts_ and it read "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown" across the top.

"You're a Good Man Charlie Brown?" I asked.

"Yep!" he said.

"And I care because…?" I asked.

"This is the 2002 Broadway revival cast of the original…older…recording," Chuckie explained.

"Why do I care?" I asked.

"You don't," he said. "But I do. My gramma sent it to me for Easter."

"Isn't she Jewish?" I asked.

"No, my other gramma," he said.

"Oh, okay," I said. "Is it any good?"

"It's great!" Chuckie said. "Anthony Rapp plays Charlie Brown."

"Who's Anthony Rapp?" I asked.

"He originated Mark in RENT," Chuckie explained.

"Oh, geez, not you, too," I complained.

"Duh," he said. "Anyway, and there's Kristin Chenoweth and Roger Bart and everybody."

"Who _are_ these people?" I asked.

"Singing people," he said. "Anyway, Anthony Rapp is _amazing_."

"Okay, I'll bite," I said. "Why is he amazing?"

"Because he's…Anthony Rapp," he said.

"Yes, cuz that's an answer," I said. "Seriously, who is he? Is he cute?"

"Of course," Chuckie said.

"Don't care," I said. Chuckie frowned.

"He's gayyy," Chuckie said in a singsong voice.

"So is everyone apparently," I returned in the same singsong voice. "And don't say that too loud. My dad will come up here and kick your ass." Chuckie laughed.

"Just listen to it," he said, handing me the case. I took it reluctantly.

"You know I'm not that into _Peanuts_," I said. "I'm not…you…"

"Cuz being me is a bad thing?" he asked.

"No," I said, quickly. "But I'm not Charlie Brown, with a sister Sally, and a dog Snoopy."

"We don't have the dog anymore," Chuckie said. "He died."

"Sorry," I said. "But I'll listen to it anyway."

"Good," Chuckie said. "You don't have to like it."

"This isn't your segue to getting me hooked on showtunes is it?" I asked, suspiciously.

"No," he replied. "If it were, we'd be starting with something a lot less awesome, like…something with Julie Andrews."

"Sound of Music?" I guessed.

"Or My Fair Lady," he said. "Anyway, listen to the CD. I gotta go home." He left my room and I stared at the CD before reluctantly putting it in my CD player to listen to.

I eventually, after stopping multiple times (it actually took the better part of that night and Sunday. I had stuff to do, and it's not like the iPod was really being mass produced yet), managed to listen to the whole thing, and, try as I might, I couldn't not like it. It was great, he was right. Monday morning, I gave it back to Chuckie on the bus.

"Ohmigod, you were right, this is amazing," I said. Chuckie smirked.

"Okay, so do you think we should start teasing Sarah now or later?" he asked.

"Now," I said. "Definitely now. Do you have any more absolutely wonderful Broadway CDs?"

"RENT?" he suggested.

"Anything but that," I said. He thought as the bus drove us to school.

"Grease?" he suggested.

"Seen it," I said. "That's good."

"It's a classic," he said. "How about, um, Phantom of the Opera?"

"Okay," I said. "What's that about?"

"There's a sketchy guy, and he haunts this theatre and pervs on this girl," Chuckie said. "But they don't end up together. Oh, and the Phantom wears an awesome hat."

"Like Ryan?" I asked.

"Yeah, except for it's black," Chuckie said.

"Why does the name sound familiar?" I asked.

"Chad," Chuckie said.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Isn't his mom, like, obsessed, or something?"

"Just a lil bit," Chuckie said. The bus stopped and they made us get out. We walked from the bus to the school. "I'm corrupting you into liking musicals. Sharpay would be so proud." I just laughed.

"Okay, dude," Chad said, coming up beside me suddenly. "Code pink."

"What's code pink?" I asked.

"Dude!" Chad said. Then he ran off.

"What's code pink?" I asked again. Chuckie shrugged. We looked at each other and then took off after Chad. When we finally caught up with him, he was hiding in the AV closet.

"Shh!" Chad said, pulling us into the closet.

"What's code pink?" I whispered.

"What does it sound like?" Chad asked. "It's…_her_."

"Oh no," I said. "What did she do this time?"

"She broke up with her boyfriend of the month a week early," Chad said.

"Boyfriend of the month?" Chuckie asked, doubtfully.

"Besides me and Chad, she's never had a boyfriend last more than a month," I explained. "And usually she starts going out with him on the first, and dumps him at the end of the month, like the 31st, or whatever."

"That makes no sense," Chuckie said.

"But how does her dumping him a week early end with you screaming 'code pink' and hiding in the AV closet?" I asked.

"She's after me again," Chad said. "I know it." I laughed.

"What do you want me to do about it?" I asked.

"For God sakes hide!" Chad said. "So that we don't have to start hanging out with them again!"

"She's not a them," Chuckie began, but then stopped himself. "Ohh, right. She _is_ kind of a them."

"Yeah," Chad said. "So, hide."

"You're just gonna hide in this closet all day?" I asked. "What if the AV people need to use it?"

"Then I'll hide in the Janitor's closet," Chad said. "Where you would be, if you were smart."

"Chad Danforth, I know you're in the goddamn closet, get your ass out here this instant!" Sharpay's voice came from the other side of the door.

"Ooh, busted," I teased.

"If I'm going down, you're coming with me," Chad said.

"No," I said. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! A million times no."

"Troy Bolton, I know you're in there too!" Sharpay yelled.

"Dammit," I said. I opened the door and Sharpay was frowning at me and Chad. She didn't seem to notice Chuckie at all. Chad and I guiltily went to stand in the hall and Chuckie slammed the door behind us. His attitude towards both of the Evans twins had changed drastically as of late.

"May we help you?" Chad asked.

"Why are you hiding in the AV closet?" Sharpay asked.

"That depends," I said. "Why do you want to know?"

"Are you avoiding me because I broke up with my boyfriend-of-the-month a week early and you think I want to ask one or both of you out?" Sharpay asked.

"For a blonde, she ain't so blonde," I muttered to Chad.

"Because that is _so_ not true," she said.

"So, you're gonna demand us out instead?" I asked.

"No," Sharpay said. "For your information, not that it's any of your business, Tony called me a slut, so I had to dump him." I looked at Chad and we exchanged glances.

"You're a slut," we both said at the same time.

"Very funny," Sharpay said. "That's not gonna work. Now get to homeroom. Wouldn't want to be late. Toodles!" She swung her hair over her shoulder, narrowly missing Chad, and left without another word.

"Toodles!" I called after her. Chad stared at me.

"Did you hear that?" he asked. "We're off the hook!"

"That's not what I heard," I said. "But yay! Especially because I never want to go out with her again." Chad left down the hall for homeroom and Chuckie came out of the closet. He stopped about halfway through, and pulled me inside instead. "What?" I asked, concerned.

"Does anyone else realize the random irony of exiting this closet?" Chuckie asked, grinning like an idiot.

"Sure," I said. "I actually thought it was kind of funny when Sharpay said she knew Chad was in the closet. But seriously, what?"

"Sharpay's not after you anymore," Chuckie said.

"Sure…" I said. "We can pretend that's what she said."

"You don't really need me anymore," Chuckie said. He seemed sad.

"That, however, was not part of anything that was said," I said.

"But that's what–" he began but I cut him off.

"For the thousandth and hopefully last time, I'm not being your boyfriend so that I don't have to be Sharpay's, because I quite honestly don't think that would stop her. I'm doing this for you," I said. "But if you don't want to do this anymore, that's fine."

"No," Chuckie said, quietly.

"No what?" I asked.

"I don't want it to end mad at each other," he said. "You're my best friend."

"And you're mine," I said. "So what do we do? Pretend all this never happened?"

"I don't want to do that either," he said.

"So what do we do?" I asked again.

"I don't know," he sighed.

"Call it a truce and then hurry to not be late for homeroom?" I suggested.

"Truce," he said, holding out his hand for me to shake. I shook it.

"Well," I said. There was a pause as the warning bell rang. Usually everyone was in homeroom by the warning bell.

"Yeah," he said. We both emerged from the AV closet (which is quite easy, and not at all like the long and involved process of actually coming out of the closet…random…).

"So, I'm still coming over later to get some musicals, right?" I asked. He smiled and nodded, but there was sadness there.

"Yeah," he said.

"Nothing's going to change," I said. "It'll be like before. Just…less making out when no one's watching." He grinned even wider and nodded, all the sadness seemingly evaporated. "Good. You're my best friend, and I don't want anything to change that."

"I thought Chad was your best friend," Chuckie said.

"I only let him think that so I can get into his pants," I said. Chuckie looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or be afraid. "I'm joking. I hope."

"I hope so too," Chuckie said. "Chad would slaughter you."

**A/N: Yeah. I'm really cranking out chapters now, huh? Yay, me! –claps like London Tipton– **

**Must I relentlessly inform you in some new and witty way that I do not own HSM, Friends, George Bush, Avenue Q, You're A Good Man Charlie Brown, RENT, Phantom of the Opera, Grease, or anything that Julie Andrews has ever starred in? I thought so. (Even though I didn't even reference a few of those things in this chapter, but there have been in the story at large so…)**

**Thanks for reading, and please review to keep me happy and updating!! :D**

**Samantha.**

**PS: I _love_ The Concert! If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend you do. Unless you're a serious Zac fan. I'm not.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen ****Friday, June 6, 2003** **(**** D-Day ****)**

Friday, June 6, 2003. 3pm. Mountain Daylight Time. I was sitting in Ms. Darbus's homeroom. It was the last day of school, and excitement and anticipation were running high. It had been a long school year, and no one was listening to what Ms. Darbus was saying. As usual. Some things never change. We had run out of Toaster Strudel that morning, and I had been very grumpy, up about until recess, at which point something had happened that made me very, very grumpy. Chad and Sharpay had gotten back together.

Sharpay had strutted over to us, on the pretense of asking me back out (again), because it was all around the school that she and some drama guy in the eighth grade had broken up the day before (a little late for her typical boyfriend-of-the-month, but it fit with the end of school), but I preempted her before she could even get a word out. She turned to Chad, who looked at me, then looked back at her, shrugged, and (get this) _agreed_. I mean, especially with all the work we had had to do to get him free of her over Christmas, he was going back out with her? No one thought it was a good idea. (And by no one, I mean no one who was there. Which included Me, Zeke, Jason, Chuckie, Jared, Michael, Chad, Sharpay, and Ryan.) Yes, not even Chad and Sharpay. Well, _maybe_ Sharpay. But only because she likes to get what she wants, and when she doesn't…it's not good.

Four minutes until the bell rang…three minutes until the bell rang…two minutes…one minute…thirty seconds. I had been staring at the clock for three and a half minutes, so I stopped staring at it, and looked at Sharpay, who was smiling, sweetly and vindictively from beside me. I had spent most of the afternoon trying to talk Chad out of it, but he wouldn't have it.

Five seconds…four…three…two…one…the bell didn't ring. Everyone in the room stared at it, including Ms. Darbus, who was mildly surprised. Then, Principal Hatcher came on the loudspeaker.

"Sorry, everyone, the bell is evidently broken. Good thing it's the last day of school. Anyway, you're all free to go. School's out. Scream and shout and do all that good stuff." There was a collective "yahoo" type deal from the hallway, and our class joined in on all the festivation. I grabbed Chad by the arm, and dragged him out to the basketball court behind the school. There was a swingset there, too, as well as a soccer field. The basketball court was also a 4square court when it wasn't being used for basketball.

"What?" Chad asked, wrenching his arm out of my grasp. I glared at him. "It is the last day of school! Can't you just leave me alone for one second?"

"You know what this is about, Chad," I said, voice threatening to crack. "After everything that happened between the two of you, you _still_ want to go out with her? She's just using you. She doesn't even really like you."

"She doesn't even really like _you_!" Chad said, angrily. "And she's just using _you_. What Sharpay and I have is real." He turned around to go back into the school, but Ryan came walking out of it.

"Ryan?" I said, not really believing he was on the basketball court.

"Oh, yeah," Ryan said. "It's me. Believe it." He picked up one of the basketballs on the side of the court and easily shot the basket.

"How long have you been able to do that?" Chad asked, suspiciously.

"Since forever," Ryan said. "Sharpay's coming out. She just had to stop at her locker. Oh, and by the way, what you guys have is _not_ real. She's just using you." Chad opened his mouth to protest, but Ryan cut him off. "And she's just using Troy too. Sorry, guys. Sharpay Evans does not care about stupid jocks."

"So does _she_ know you can shoot a hoop?" Chad asked. Ryan snorted and shook his head.

"No," he said. "As if. I mean, really, does it even seem like something I would do?"

"No, not really," I said. "Although people are known to have hidden talents or identities." Like me. But I didn't actually say that.

"Boys!" Sharpay said, walking out of the school. Me and Chad both turned to look at her, and Ryan promptly threw the basketball he was holding at Chad, who caught it without looking. She stopped several feet short of us, realizing the glares on our faces. She turned to look at Ryan, who shrugged and walked over to stand next to her. "Why do I get the feeling that you all know something I don't?" Chad and I both started talking at the same time. It was probably a good thing, too, because she couldn't discern what we were actually saying.

"You and me all that time you were using me to make Troy jealous? That's not right, Shar, and you know it! You had me thinking what we had was real! I don't like you anymore, we are finished, I will never go out with you again, I hate you, and you're a major bitch!" Chad yelled.

"You and me all that time, I knew you were using me, but I let you anyway! I'm Troy Bolton, and that's why you wanted to be with me, I get it, okay, but you didn't have to take it out on Chad! Especially when you had him thinking it was all real! And you see if I _ever_ go out with you again. The wedding is OFF, you hear me? **OFF**!" I yelled at the same time as Chad.

"Both excellent points," Ryan mediated. "Sharpay, would you like to reply to that?" He held an invisible microphone towards her and she glared at him. At that point in time, she was quite intimidating. She'd recently gotten her growth spurt, and she was a good two inches taller than Chad's hair, making her a whole four and a half inches taller than Ryan at the time. "And I swear I didn't have anything to do with this," Ryan continued. That set me and Chad off again.

"Yes, you did, you liar! You said that what me and Sharpay had isn't real!" Chad yelled.

"You upset Chad, and he's my best friend, you liar! And you even lied to Sharpay to top it off!" I yelled.

"You…lied…to me?" Sharpay asked softly, turning to Ryan. He looked like a deer in the headlights, and unable to speak. "What about?"

"Um, no, he didn't," I said. "I…made that up. What I meant was…Chad lied to you."

"He…did?" Sharpay asked.

"Yes," I said. "He…didn't want you to know that he really doesn't care about you. He wants you to feel like you broke his heart or something." Now Chad looked like a deer in the headlights. "It's true. He just didn't want to tell you. You really meant nothing to him."

"Okay…" Sharpay said. "Well, then." She didn't have anything to say.

"I call a truce," Ryan said.

"Good idea," I said.

"Okay, how about you stay on your side of the school, and we'll stay on ours?" Chad said. "Stick to the Status Quo. Don't Go Changin. All that crap. You guys get theatre, and we get sports."

"But what about my–" Sharpay began.

"Fine," Ryan said.

"And the sports players," Chad said, in a way meant to mean that Sharpay wouldn't come and snipe boys from our turf.

"But my–" Sharpay began again.

"Fine," Ryan said.

"And we'll stay out of your stupid music things," Chad said. "Deal?"

"Deal," Ryan said. My brain imploded. There was no way that was going to fly! This was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. Including Watergate. I looked at Sharpay, seeing if she was going to go along with this. There was no way.

"Deal," Sharpay said. Everyone looked at me.

"Deal," I said, grudgingly. It would have been weird for me to freak out about it. The four of us shook hands. Sharpay whipped her long blonde hair around, almost hitting Ryan in the face, but fortunately it went over his head, and she stalked off the basketball court.

"Come on, dude, let's get out of here," Chad said, walking off the other side of the court.

"Thanks," Ryan said to me, quietly, before turning to follow his sister.

"Anytime," I said, walking away with Chad. It was the worst decision in the history of bad decisions. The absolute worst. Worse than Watergate, worse than Teapot Dome, worse than deciding to take a year off before going to college to tour some godforsaken third world country. This was the absolute worst.

Plus I felt bad about Sharpay losing her cheering squad. That was kind of mean of Chad to say that. I secretly wondered if it was just us that had to adhere to the rule, or all the guys.

You know, it was fitting that it was D-Day. "D" stands for "decision", doesn't it? (**A/N: Out of curiosity, what **_**does**_** the D stand for?**)

**A/N: Today's chapter is uber-short, but it's also one of the more important ones. And if anyone knows what the "D" stands for in "D-day" will you **_**please**_** tell me, because I'm way too lazy to look it up.**

**Another thing, I don't own anything, but since when is that new?**

**But really, um, this is the situation that Ryan is referencing in chapter…15…of the Board of Secrets. If you read what he says about it and then read this, you'll realize that it doesn't quite match up, but cut Ryan some slack. He was a little preoccupied to get it exactly right. And I know he acts weird at the beginning of the chapter, but just…I don't know. **

**Up until this point, I have always had the next chapter finished before I posted the chapter before it…if that makes sense, but I actually have about a third of the next chapter written, but it's next on my to-do list. (My mom has gotten really into this whole trilogy situation lately, and she's been making me write random pieces that go in between and asking dumb questions and because I live with her…you understand.) Anyway.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!! It makes me really happy! And I could use that right now. In the last three days, I've written two break-ups and one emotional break-down. Not for this story, but in general. So, in other words, reviews would cheer me up.**

**Samantha.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen Summer 2003. (No interesting thing to say here.)**

We found out that Sharpay and Ryan were going to be moving into some stupid country club instead of living at their house that summer. I didn't really care that much, no one did. No one.

One day, probably a Friday, but it was summer, so no one really cared, the phone rang. Well, actually, the phone rang a lot of times that summer, but it rang one time in particular. My mom picked it up, as usual, and then yelled my name up the stairs.

"If it's Chad, tell him I'm busy," I said. I was staring at the screen of my old Windows 98. I was hoping to get a new computer soon, but it worked, so I didn't complain. We still had dial up, which sucked, but I wasn't on the internet. I was playing the Chicago soundtrack in the computer's CD player (the movie version with Richard Gere and Queen Latifah and those other people who were in it. It won like a billion awards) and playing Minesweeper. Trying to beat my old high score. Which, of course, I couldn't with my mom screaming up the stairs at me.

"It's your girlfriend!" my mom yelled.

"Which one?" I yelled back.

"Just come down here and talk on the phone!" my mom yelled. I paused Chicago, exited Minesweeper, and went downstairs. My mom handed me the phone and I answered it tentatively.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hey," Sapphire's voice came from the other side. Or at least, I guessed it was Sapphire. It could have been Ruby.

"Oh, hi," I said. "Funny telling my mom you're my girlfriend. Not."

"I didn't tell her that," Sapphire said. "She already knew."

"Wonderful," I said. "What's up?"

"Well, we were wondering if you and Chuckie wanted to see a movie with us," Sapphire asked.

"We broke up," I said. "Like four months ago."

"I know," she replied. "But we didn't." I could hear her grinning.

"How did you get this phone number?" I asked.

"You really think it's hard to use the phone book?" Sapphire asked rhetorically.

"What movie?" I asked.

"Pirates of the Caribbean," Sapphire said in a spooky voice. "It came out the other day and it's supposed to be really good."

"Isn't that PG-13?" I asked.

"Yeah, so? Does your mommy not let you watch PG-13 movies?" Sapphire mocked.

"No," I said. "That's…Chuckie's not 13 yet."

"You're kidding," Sapphire said. "Well, that sucks. I didn't know his birthday was after ours."

"When is yours?" I asked.

"July," Sapphire said. "It was last week. We all went to the pool for a party?"

"Oh yeah," I said. "Whatever."

"But, come on, they never check IDs anyway. It's not like he doesn't look 13. We really wanna see it!" Sapphire said.

"Okay, I'm in," I said.

"Awesome," Sapphire said. "Meet you at your house in twenty. Toodles." I groaned as I hung up the phone.

"Mom!" I announced. "I'm going to the movies with my…girlfriend…"

"Thought she wasn't your girlfriend," Dylan mocked.

"Shut up," I said. My mom stared me up and down.

"Change your shirt and brush your teeth," she instructed.

"I can go?" I asked.

"Sure," my mom said.

"I wanna go!" Dylan complained.

"I'll take you to the movies some other day," my mom said. "Maybe on your birthday."

"It's 11 days until my birthday," Dylan announced happily, wandering out of the room. I rolled my eyes. Twenty minutes later, Chuckie, Sapphire, Ruby, and I were in the Eatons' minivan, and Mr. Eaton was driving us to the movie theater. When we got there, he even came in with us, bought the tickets, and personally vouched that we were all thirteen. (I secretly wondered if he knew we weren't, but didn't dwell on it. We had Mrs. Brown's permission to see the movie, so it didn't matter anyway.) Mr. Eaton left after that, telling his daughters to call when they were finished so that he could come pick us up.

"How are you supposed to call?" I asked.

"Cell phone, duh," Ruby said, holding up a very large object that very well could have been the planet Jupiter and would definitely not pass for a cell phone in 2008. At the time, however, I was impressed.

"Cool," I said. "It's like a phone?"

"Yeah," Sapphire said, showing off a matching one. "It's like a phone. But it's not in the house."

"That's cool," I said. "I should get one."

When the movie was over, we left the theater, as any normal person would when a movie was over.

"That. Was. Amazing," Ruby said.

"Hell yeah," Sapphire said. "If it was summer…well, it is…"

"If Chuckie was actually 13, we could go and see it every day," I finished for them.

"Yes," they both said.

"It was okay," Chuckie said.

"Chuckie, you need to get it through your head that Orlando Bloom is Hot," Ruby said. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Chuckie said. "I agree. I don't know. It was just…kind of lame."

"They'll probably make a sequel or two," I said. "I mean, it _is_ Disney. They have nothing better to do but make infinite sequels of movies that were never good in the first place."

"Good point," Sapphire said. "I'm gonna call Dad." She stepped away from us to place the call. It was so cool at the time.

"Anyway," Ruby said, "it'll probably be, like, twenty minutes before he gets here. Y'know, if you want ice cream or something."

"Do you think it's weird to be out on a double date since we broke up?" Chuckie asked.

"Nah," I said. "We didn't break up with them, just each other."

"Man, if we were some one else, we wouldn't make sense to us," Chuckie said.

"We don't make sense to us anyway," I said. "So problem solved."

"Hey!" someone yelled from somewhere near us. Ruby and Sapphire turned around to look at who was talking. It was some assholes from East Middle Football Team. They were going to be freshmen in the fall.

"Hey what?" I asked. I was annoyed.

"Hey, Q, isn't that that fag's sisters?" the same guy asked. His buddy looked over at us and grinned.

"Yeah," he replied.

"And now they've got new fags to hang out with," the first guy said.

"No!" Ruby said. "That's not–"

"Shh," Sapphire said. Ruby was younger than Sapphire and therefore had less sense. "Don't mess with them."

"We don't hit girls," the same first guy said. "Good for you. We hit fags." I looked around for someone that was going to interject in the situation, but there was no one around.

"Told you this was a bad plan," Chuckie whispered in my ear.

"Look," I said, backing up, because they were walking towards us. "Let's not get into a fight here. We're–"

"_Troy_ _Bolton_ wants to talk," the asshole said. "Do we want to listen?"

"No," Q said.

"I didn't think so," the guy said. It seemed like I knew his name, but it was escaping me.

"Hey, asshole, why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Ruby shouted. Sapphire spun around in frustration.

"Well, I don't see anyone here that fits that description," I said. "Maybe you should just leave."

"We don't want to leave," the dude said. A car pulled up behind where I knew Ruby and Sapphire were standing, and Mr. Eaton came running into the scene. "Dude, scram," the dude said to his buddy, Q. They both ran off.

"I should call their parents," Mr. Eaton said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine," I said as we climbed into the van. "You're right, that was a very bad idea. Next time, we'll just run."

"Great plan," Chuckie said. "Or just stop picking fights with homophobes."

"I wasn't picking the fight," I said. "He was picking the fight. I could take him, don't you think?"

"If it was the school year, it'd be all over the school by Monday morning that you were beaten up by homophobes," Chuckie said. "Do you really want that?"

"I don't care," I said. "Those guys were just assholes anyway."

As the summer dragged on, _so_ slowly, we never actually saw the stupid idiots again. One day in mid-August, Chuckie and I were sitting on top of a picnic table outside his house staring at a tree.

"If they were bigger, they probably would have picked a fight with Mr. Eaton," Chuckie said.

"They would not have," I said. "I'm surprised he didn't call their parents. That was, like, a month ago. Can we stop discussing it now?" Chuckie shrugged, and we both changed from staring at the tree, to staring at the back porch of his house, which overlooked both the picnic table and the tree. One, singular, tree. Seriously. Chuckie's sister Sarah, which we'd recently taken to calling Sally just to be mean for no good reason, walked out of the back door onto the porch, saw us, stopped, giggled, and ran back into the house. Chuckie rolled his eyes. "What's up with her?"

"Nothing," Chuckie said.

"Does she know about us?" I asked.

"Nah, she just likes you," he replied, smirking.

"Ew," I said.

"Seriously," he said. "As if she'd have a chance."

"I don't date soccer players," I said.

"Yeah because _that's_ the reason it wouldn't work out," Chuckie said, smirking even more.

"Oh, right," I said. "Well, then there's _that_."

"You have got to be, without a doubt, the worst gay guy I've ever met," Chuckie said, rolling his eyes.

"It is difficult to be this gay and hold up an image," I joked. "Sometimes I just abduct random cheerleaders into broom closets for no good reason."

"Good one," Chuckie said. "Well, shall we stare at the trees in your backyard for a while?"

"I don't see why not," I said. We both got up and walked across the street into my backyard, where we sat down on top of the picnic table and stared at the trees. "This is infinitely more fun than last summer."

"Really?"

"No, I'm so bored," I said.

"What did we do last summer?" Chuckie asked.

"You got me," I said. Dylan walked out the back door, spotted us, and sighed. "Go away, Dylan."

"Mom said you were across the street," Dylan complained.

"We were," I said. "We got bored of staring at that tree, so now we're staring at these ones."

"That's all you've been doing all summer," Dylan complained.

"That's not true," I said. "Just yesterday I attempted to give you a swirlie in preparation for being an eighth grader, but your head wouldn't fit in the downstairs toilet." Chuckie laughed.

"That was not funny," Dylan said. "And I'm _ten_ now. So you can't do that anymore."

"Yes, but I'm thirteen," I said. "So I rank superior."

"That's not fair," Dylan said. He walked back into the house, slamming the door as he did so.

"I say tomorrow we try and sit on the roof to stare at the trees," I said.

"Sounds plannish," Chuckie said. "When's Chad and Zeke getting here?"

"Soonish," I said. "Like ten minutes." Sure enough, ten minutes later, Chad and Zeke showed up.

"Uncanny," Chuckie said.

"I'm a superhero," I said.

"Makes sense, since you're gay like one," he replied. I went to hit him for his remark, but he scurried away to greet Chad and Zeke.

"Hey, I would look good in that kind of suit!" I called after him. I could tell he was smirking.

"Yo," Chad said.

"Is 'yo' back?" I asked.

"Yes," Chad informed me. "And 'sexy meatloaf' is out."

"That's okay," I said. "I'll bring sexy back someday."

"Seems like something N'Sync would do," Chuckie said.

"They are definitely out," Chad said. "Newest thing: um… I have no idea. But N'Sync is out."

"Are we gonna play ball or not?" Zeke asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's do this." We played the game, me and Chuckie versus Chad and Zeke, and, well, we won, because we're awesome, but not telepathic in anyway.

"You guys are cheating somehow," Zeke complained. "There is no way you can win every game."

"Well, we do have the home court advantage," Chuckie said.

"I think you're telepathic," Zeke said.

"No, you're just telepathetic," I said.

"Telepathetic?" Chad said. "Come on, Troy. That is so out. It's the lamest joke ever." I rolled my eyes.

"Any way you put it, you guys are just terrible," I said.

"I don't get how you, of all people, can be the best basketball player in, like, the world," Chad said. "It's weird."

"I'm not," I said. "Yet."

"When I beat you," Chad said, "you better believe I'm going to gloat."

"I have my calendars marked," I said. "July 32nd, 2080."

"Dude, we'll be, like, ninety," Chad said.

"There is no 32nd of July," Chuckie shrewdly observed.

"Oh, well, then, guess he'll never beat me," I said, smirking. Dylan reappeared outside the house.

"Mom says that you left the light on again in the bathroom, and to remember to turn it off," he announced.

"I haven't used the bathroom in hours," I said. "It must have been you."

"Hey, that's just what she said," Dylan said.

"Whatever," I said, turning back to Chad. "And hey, with the basketball genes in this family, I wouldn't be surprised if _Dylan_ could beat you at basketball."

"He could not," Chad said.

"Maybe not now," I said. "Give it a couple years. Maybe sometime after he grows a little bit."

"I am 4'11," Dylan announced. "And I am planning on growing this year!"

"Sure," I said. "When I was ten, I was five feet even."

"Well, you haven't grown much," Zeke joked.

"That's not true!" I said. "I am so much taller now!"

"Whoo, three inches in three years," Chuckie said. "That's so tall."

"We learned in health class that guys get their growth spurts when they're fourteen. I'll be tall. Just you watch," I announced. Unfortunately, I never got as tall as I wished I could. But I'm still the best basketball player in New Mexico.

"So we'll add that to the list of the accomplishments that you'll achieve when you get older," Chad said, laughing. "Being tall, bringing sexy back, marrying Sharpay…"

"I am _not_ marrying Sharpay!" I said very loudly. "That is totally out of the question."

"Uh-huh," Dylan said, turning to go back into the house. "Because I refuse to have her as my sister in law."

"Yeah, that's why," I said. "As a favor to Dylan."

"Sure," Zeke said. "What's it like?"

"What's what like?" I asked, sitting on top of the picnic table in the side yard (as opposed to the one in the backyard, where we had been sitting earlier).

"Being engaged," Zeke said.

"Well, it's kind of like not being engaged, in that I'm not engaged," I said.

"No, seriously," Chad said, sitting down on the bench.

"I'm not engaged!" I said. "I'm not even dating her."

"Then who are you dating?" Chad asked.

"Isn't he dating that cheerleader?" Zeke said.

"Actually–" Chuckie began.

"Yeah, Sapphire Eaton," Chad said.

"She's hot," Zeke said. "What's she doing with Troy?"

"Oh, burn," Chad said. He slapped five with Zeke.

"Guys, I'm not dating her," I said. "We just…hang out…sometimes, is all."

"Sure," Chad said.

"Denial," Zeke said, in a sing-song voice. I rolled my eyes, and looked at Chuckie for help.

"We're really not dating them," he said.

"Who's 'them'?" Chad asked.

"Ruby and Sapphire," Chuckie said. "Duh."

"Well, we knew _you_ weren't," Chad said, rolling his eyes. "Good work, Troy."

"I'm not dating her!" I shouted. "She's not my girlfriend!"

"Troy," my mom called, coming out of the house with the phone in her hand, "your girlfriend's on the phone. She wants to speak to you."

"Tell her the guys are here and I'll call her back later," I said. My mom went back to talking to the person on the phone. Zeke and Chad looked at me. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Honey, she really wants to talk to you right now," my mom interrupted.

"Fine!" I said, taking the phone. "Sapphire, I can't talk right now."

"What?" the other person said. I blushed bright red. It was Sharpay.

"Hold on a second," I said, covering the phone with my hand. "It's Sharpay."

"She's your girlfriend now?" Zeke asked.

"No," I said. "My mom is…an idiot." I turned back to the phone. "I'm back."

"You're weird today," Sharpay said. "What's up?"

"Um, you called me," I said.

"I know," Sharpay said. "What's up?"

"Well, I'm not talking to you, and the guys are here," I said.

"Yeah," Sharpay said. "So…"

"Shar, you haven't talked to me in, like, two months," I said. "What's up? Don't tell me you want to come over here again."

"No," Sharpay said. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?" I asked.

"Ryan thinks–" Sharpay began. "Ow, don't hit me! Fine, mom and dad think– Ryan, stop that! I think that we should all get together sometime. Like for fun. No, like, strings attached or anything."

"Where?" I asked.

"Neutral ground," Sharpay said. "Pool?"

"Which one?" I asked.

"The one with the waterslides and gocarts," Sharpay said.

"When?" I asked.

"This weekend?" Sharpay suggested. I turned to the guys.

"Who wants to go to the pool this weekend?" I asked. They all looked amongst themselves and shrugged. "Sounds like a plan, Shar. Saturday, the waterslides. You're bringing food?"

"Of course," Sharpay said. "It's…not…a date. See you then?"

"Yep," I said.

"Toodles, Troy," Sharpay said.

"Toodles," I repeated. We both hung up. The guys were staring at me. "Who am I to pass up free food and waterslides?"

"Who's gonna be there?" Chad asked.

"Us," I said. "Her. I don't know."

"Probably should have asked," Zeke suggested.

"Thanks, you can talk to her next time she calls," I said. The phone rang in my hand. I looked at the Caller ID and tossed it to Zeke, who answered it nervously.

"Hello?" Zeke asked. "No, it's me, Zeke. Zeke Baylor. I'm, like, Troy's best friend." I snorted and he shushed me. "I'm on the basketball team! We made out last summer, remember? No? Never mind. Oh, okay, I'll tell him. Bye, Sharpay." He hung up the phone and tossed it back to me. "That was unfair."

"You asked for it," I said.

"She said she just invited some people," Zeke said. "You know, the people."

"Thought she didn't like the people," Chuckie said.

"You got me," I said. "She changes her likes and dislikes like she changes clothes."

Saturday came sooner than I thought, and I got my mom to drive me and Chuckie there, although I unfortunately had to promise her I'd look after Dylan all day, which sucked, but it was okay. As soon as we got there, Chad, Zeke, and Jason came running over.

"You're late," Chad announced.

"You were late," Zeke said.

"Fine," Chad said. "Then, hi."

"Hi," I said. "Is she here yet?"

"No, but the whole water park is closed to people who aren't invited," Zeke said.

"It's, like, the most exclusive party in the state," Jason said. "We're lucky to be here."

"We're VIPs," Chad said. "It's so cool."

"And we don't like her because…?" I asked. I was not answered, because an obnoxiously pink limo drove up at that moment. A guy, who was thankfully dressed in a _black_ suit, got out of the front and opened to door for Sharpay to get out.

"It'll be so much better when I can drive," Sharpay was saying to Ryan. "Then we won't have to bother with this stupid limo all the time."

"Yeah, it's obnoxiously pink," Chad said.

"Hi boys," Sharpay said. Ryan waved. "Come along, Ryan." Ryan rolled his eyes and followed Sharpay into the main place where normal people pay for tickets, all the while carrying a little dog in a little pink case. The six of us guys exchanged glances and followed them as well.

"Ugh," Dylan said as we walked. "She's here?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I told you I didn't want to come," he said.

"You begged to come," I said. "It's all I've heard for three days." We entered the building, (there was also an arcade in there) and Sharpay was talking to the manager.

"Thank you for hosting the party," she said. "I assume you got Daddy's check?"

"Yes, Miss Evans," the guy said. "Please enjoy your party."

"Thank you," Sharpay said. She waved her hand to dismiss the guy and he actually just left. I was surprised. I guess she just has that essence. "Oh, it's you guys."

"Yeah, it's us," I said. "What's the occasion?"

"I feel like it," Sharpay said, smiling wickedly, before exiting the other door that led to the pool.

"I wish I had money like that," Chad said, enviously.

"Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it all and then some you don't want," I said, knowingly. Zeke led us out to where Sharpay and Ryan were settling into chaises. In retrospect, I can't believe none of us realized he had a crush on her sooner than we did, but we're just guys, and, well, we're stupid. Sharpay was taking her dog out of its box.

"Hi, Ivana," she said. "Are you a good doggy?"

"I'm sure she's a good doggy," Ryan said, rolling his eyes. "I don't see why you have to bring her everywhere."

"I got her for my thirteenth birthday. She's very special," Sharpay said.

"Nice," I remarked. "Cute dog." I plopped into the chaise next to Sharpay's.

"This is Ivana. She's new," Sharpay said. "Isn't she cute?"

"The cutest," I said, very unenthusiastically. Chad, Zeke, and Jason went off to use the waterslides (they were there, and they were _free_ was the point, even if it was Sharpay), and Chuckie sat down on the chaise next to mine. There were people galore around us. I wondered where Dylan had wandered off to. "It's a nice day."

"The sun is shining, it's a lovely day, a perfect morning for a kid to play," Sharpay began singing softly.

"Oh, my God," Chuckie said, sitting straight up from beside me. "You know that song."

"Like, duh," Sharpay said.

"That's, like, the best show ever!" Chuckie said.

"It's coming to Broadway this fall!" Sharpay exclaimed.

"Well," I said, standing up, "I can see I'm going to be bored here. I'll just leave." I left the general area of the chaises behind and wandered over to the mini golf course. I sat down on the steps leading up to the first hole and stared around. I was suddenly aware of two girls standing beside me. "Hey, girls."

"Hi Troy," they chorused.

"What's up?" I asked. They sat down on either side of me.

"Well, we were going to ask you that," Ruby said. "You look mopey."

"Enh," I said.

"And a little tired," Sapphire remarked.

"Enh," I said again.

"Wanna play golf?" Ruby asked.

"Well, not really," I said. "I'd cream you."

"That you would," Sapphire said. "So why not?"

"Cuz I've played here a billion times," I said. "I'm bored. Let's do something else."

"Go carts?" Sapphire asked.

"Enh," I said.

"Where's Chuckie? Don't tell me you left him at home," Ruby said.

"I didn't," I said. "He's talking to Sharpay about some…musical…thing."

"That's weird," Sapphire said.

"Not as weird as you'd think," I said. "But you can add Sarah Brown to the list of people with a crush on me."

"So, that now brings to total to 749. When Ruby jumps on the train, you'll have an even 750," Sapphire said, grinning. "Where's Ryan?"

"No idea," I said. "Probably with Sharpay and Sharpay's new dog, Ivana."

"Ivana?" Ruby asked. "Nice name."

"I'm sure she'll name the next one something dumber," I said.

"I don't see them," Sapphire said, looking over towards the chairs.

"Really?" I asked. "I'm kind of hungry, actually." We wandered over to the big white tent, where there was food. We sat down with some food at a table where Ryan was sitting with papers everywhere.

"Hi Ryan," the girls chorused.

"Can't talk girls," Ryan said. "I'm picking a song."

"Why?" I asked, concerned.

"Because there's karaoke here and Sharpay's being insistent," Ryan said. "Shh."

"Did you know there's karaoke here?" Ruby asked.

"For my first song, I'll sing 'Heaven is a Place on Earth'," Sharpay announced over the microphone.

"Kill me now," I said. Sapphire grinned.

**A/N: Yes, Ivana is named after London's dog on the Suite Life. I figured Boi didn't look old enough to be her dog back then, so she had a different one. Um, so this is a long chapter. The insults aimed at Chuckie and Troy are…not very nice, and I wouldn't want to offend anyone by actually saying them, but bullies are bullies and they're evil and stuff. This was a lot better in my head.**

**Ashley Tisdale actually did a cover of Heaven is a Place on Earth, which was playing at the time that I wrote this. So, I don't own HSM or Avenue Q, or POTC, or Chicago, or anything else. On a similar note, we have a waterpark like the one mentioned in the town next to mine, and it's pretty cool. Thanks for reading, and please review!**

**Samantha.**

**Next chapter: Chapter Fifteen – In which rules are broken, and there is a party of some sorts. And the author goes insane looking up stuff about Jewishism, because it's difficult to understand. It's a good thing she's not Jewish.**

**Oh, and PS, my mom thought the part where they're sitting on the picnic table staring at the trees was a little Phineas and Ferb. That was totally not on purpose, even though it's funny. And I don't own that either.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen September 2003. ( School hath started again. )  
**–**In which rules are broken and there is a party of some sort.**

"What, what?" I shouted, running into Chuckie's backyard.

"What?" he asked, looking up from the picnic table he was sitting on top of with Sarah.

"Your sister called, she said come over quick, bring a highlighter and a Milky Way," I said.

"Well, we couldn't find a highlighter in the house, and Sarah wanted a Milky Way," he said. Sarah stole the Milky Way from my hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked. School had started the other day, and the first week of being eighth graders had gone well.

"Well, my gramma called and she's kind of angry that we're not getting mitzvahed," Chuckie said.

"And…?" I prompted.

"So, we're getting mitzvahed," Sarah said.

"And that's…bad?" I asked. Chuckie nodded. "Aren't you Catholic?"

"5/8 Catholic actually," he said.

"3/8 Jewish," Sarah supplied.

"Okay," I said. "That's a good reason. And you need a highlighter because…?"

"Well, I have a printout of the 613 commandments," Chuckie said, gesturing at a stack of papers.

"He thinks if he breaks enough of them, he won't have to get mitzvahed," Sarah explained.

"You're gonna get smited," I said. "And mitzvahed."

"It's worth a shot," Chuckie said. "Anyway, I was highlighting ones that would be easy to break, except for my highlighter ran out of ink." He stole the one I was holding, and threw his old one onto the porch.

"There are like twenty of them dedicated to not being incestuous," Sarah said, handing me a sheet of paper. "You'd think they could just have one: Thou shalt not be incestuous. But no, there is about twenty rules saying _who_ thou shalt not be incestuous with."

"I'm so glad I'm not Jewish," I said.

"This isn't fair," Chuckie said. "Why do I have to be mitzvahed? I'm baptized, I got first communion, and confirmation. My gramma's insane."

"Isn't she the one that bought you the DDR for the playstation?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "For Hanukkah. Which we don't celebrate."

"She's just trying to be nice," I said.

"Stop defending her and help me break some of these rules," Chuckie said. I took a few of the papers and started looking down them.

"What's an idolater?" I asked.

"I don't know," Chuckie said. "I plan on asking later, because one of the rules is to not inquire into them."

"Is anyone going to tell me why this is so bad?" I asked. Sarah shrugged.

"I don't want to," Chuckie said, enunciating very carefully. "That should be good enough for you."

"Okay, okay," I said. "when are we going to… 'have children with one's wife'?"

"Never," Chuckie said dramatically.

"I see," I said. "This could be a lifetime achievement. Breaking all 613 commandments."

"I'm not breaking all of them," Chuckie said. "Just enough."

"Well, this one should be easy for ya, Chuck," Sarah said, observing a piece of paper, "number 157, thou shalt not have homosexual sexual relations."

"Thanks, Sarah," Chuckie said. "Highlight it."

"You're twelve," I said. "I don't think you should be having any kind of sexual relations."

"Good point," Sarah said. There were car sounds from the driveway on the other side of the house, and Chad, Zeke, and Jason came running into the backyard.

"What is such the big hurry?" Jason asked. "I didn't get time to eat my Milky Way." Sarah stole the Milky Way from his hand and took a bite of it before he could protest.

"They're going to give him a mitzvah, and he's not happy about it," I explained.

"I go to church!" Chuckie said. "I shouldn't have to do this!"

"Going to church doesn't make you Catholic any more than standing in a garage makes you a car," Chad said. "Now what are we doing?"

"Breaking rules," Chuckie said.

"We're gonna get smited," Zeke said.

"That's what I said," I said.

We spent the next couple of hours looking through all the rules, discovering the ones that would be easiest to break. They were quite redundant. Eventually, Chad, Zeke, and Jason had to leave, but Chuckie, Sarah, and I were still sitting on the picnic table. I was staring cross-eyed at the tree, Chuckie was staring at a piece of paper in a frustrated manner, and Sarah was absent-mindedly eating grapes.

"So, we're just going to eat a whole bunch of non-kosher food and defy authority?" I asked.

"Yes," Chuckie said. "And worship false idols."

"Who are our idols?" Sarah asked.

"Michael Jordan," I said. "Kobe Bryant."

"Anthony Rapp," Chuckie said. "Daniel Radcliffe."

"Jonathon Taylor Thomas," Sarah said. "Neil Patrick Harris."

"Michelle Kwan," I said. "Hayden Christiansen."

"Idina Menzel, Kristin Chenoweth," Chuckie said.

"You're weird," I said.

"Duh," Sarah said. "Johnny Depp and…Orlando Bloom."

"Yesssss," I said. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Ta-da," Chuckie said. "False idols. Now, we build a temple, plant a tree in the courtyard, and worship them on a smooth stone."

"Well there you go," I said. "I don't know when I got sucked into this."

"Around the time when you said, 'let's do this, bitches'," Sarah said. "And then volunteered to help."

"Oh, right," I said. "You know what would make you angry? If Milky Ways weren't kosher."

"Are they?" Sarah asked, examining the wrapper she was holding from the third one she'd eaten. "I don't think so."

"They are, in fact, kosher," Chuckie said, sighing in a frustrated manner, staring at all his papers. "Wish we had a higher head start on this. This is gonna take a while."

The next day, Sunday, we examined the backyard for a good place to put a Temple.

"Maybe we should build it around the tree," Sarah said. "What are we making it out of?"

"Can't we just use the treehouse in my backyard?" I asked. "that way we aren't actually building one, which would be against the rules, and there's still a tree."

"Okay, well, that's settled," Chuckie said. "Next item: get posters of our idols. Or at least pictures. Which I took the liberty of doing, with the help of a laser printer. Tada!"

"What are you tada-ing?" I asked.

"Damn it," he said, before rummaging in his pockets for the pictures. Sarah smirked and made a look that made me certain that she had taken them. "All right, Sarah, where are they?"

"They're in Troy's tree house," Sarah said. "Come on."

They were, in fact, in the treehouse. Along with a poster of Michael Jordan and Pirates of the Caribbean poster

"This is so weird," I said. "Breakfast, anyone?"

"We had breakfast sausages," Chuckie said, examining the tree house. "Is Chad here yet?"

"No," I said. There were car sounds. "Yes." I went down to meet him. "Chad, you gotta help me, he's gone insane."

"You wanna spend the day shopping with my mom?" Chad asked.

"Not really," I said. "Although it sounds much better than watching Chuckie go insane."

"Troy, you made a commitment to help him break the 7 billion rules of…Jewish…stuff," Chad said.

"It's Judaism," I said. "And there's only 613."

"Same difference," Chad said. "C'mon, I brought a Milky Way."

"You can't keep bribing Sarah with those. She'll never date you," I said.

"You don't know," Chad said.

"Yeah, I do," I said.

"Why, are you dating her?" Chad asked.

"No," I said.

"Then there's no problem," Chad said. He began climbing the ladder into the tree house. I sighed and followed him.

"Ooh, Milky Way," Sarah said, stealing the candy before Chad could even say anything.

"Good plan," I whispered.

"Shut up," Chad said.

The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon was spent deciding which of the other rules were going to be broken. Around three, Chad's mom picked him up. He had, and he was very disgruntled about this, not made any more progress on the "Get Sarah to go out with me" plan.

"He's weird today," Chuckie remarked.

"He's trying to get Sarah to go out with him," I explained.

"Is he really?" Sarah asked. "I never would have guessed."

"Yeah, he is," I said. "Yes or no, so I can tell him tomorrow and he won't keep being all weird."

"Okay," Sarah said. Chuckie rolled his eyes. "I'll call him right now." She left the treehouse to go back to her own house.

"You know there's still one rule we've yet to break…" Chuckie said, looking up from his papers for once.

"There's a lot of them, actually," I said.

"I was specifically talking about rule 157," Chuckie said.

"No," I said. "That's…no."

"Besides the fact that I'm twelve, why not?" he asked.

"That's the only reason why not," I said.

"So if we were older?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

"Okay," he said. "Later?"

"Yeah," I said. "Much later." There was a long silence.

"So–" he began.

"It's still not the time," I said. "Try me again in, like, two…three years."

"Okay," he said. "Now I want to invent time travel."

"That'd be useful," I said. "We could go into next week and find out whether you're going to actually get a bar mitzvah, regardless of this stuff."

"That would be useful," he said. "But back to the other thing…"

"What now?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said.

"I can tell what you're thinking," I said.

"You can?" he asked.

"Yes, it's one of my superpowers that enables me to be a false prophet," I said. "You wanna get back together?"

"Dear God, yes," he said.

"Okay," I said.

"That it?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "That's it."

"Okay."

By the next Saturday, we'd broken a lot of the rules. And, man, had we eaten a lot of non-kosher food. And Chad and Sarah had done things in Sarah's bedroom I don't ever want to talk about. No, not _that_. But other stuff. Chuckie's grandmother (his Jewish one, his dad's mom) arrived on Saturday afternoon from wherever it was that she lived. Evidently she would be there to oversee all the Jewish stuff that had to happen, blah, blah, blah. I was bored, and went home. I ran into Chad on my way out.

"You do not want to go in there," I said.

"But Sarah and I have a date!" he complained.

"Not anymore you don't," I said. "That house is one big pot of Jewishness loaded and ready to explode."

"Okay," Chad said. "Your house it is, then."

"Actually, I was going to the tree house," I said. "You can do whatever you want." Chad followed me up into our makeshift Temple.

"Why is there a picture of you up there with the ones of MJ and Kobe Bryant?" Chad asked.

"I'm the prophet of Basketball," I said. "Evidently, it's been prophesized that I'll be in London 2012."

"What's in 2012?" Chad asked.

"The London Olympics," I explained. Chad nodded. "It's totally not gonna happen."

"Well, if the basketball prophet said so, it must be true," Chad joked. "Like Wikipedia."

"Right," I said, laughing.

"So when's their big party?" Chad asked, referring to Chuckie and Sarah.

"Saturday," I said. "They have to go to Temple and read some stuff, then they eat, and then there's a party."

"And we get to go and eat at this party?" Chad asked.

"I would assume so," I said. "That's what Wikipedia says."

"Sounds like a plan," Chad said.

And so it happened. And Chuckie grumbled through the entire thing. Even though we collectively broke over 160 of the 613 commandments, his grandmother didn't seem to notice or care. Chad and I met up with them at the reception. No, we didn't go to the Temple with them. It seemed boring.

"Hey, did you know that I'm a complete flop at speaking Hebrew?" Chuckie asked, surprisingly upbeat. "Oh, and I'm a Man."

"Great," Chad said. "Don't care. Where's Sarah?"

"I don't know, being a Woman somewhere," Chuckie said. Chad ran off in search of her.

"Happy becoming a Man day," I said.

"Thank you Troy," Chuckie said. "Seriously, didja get me a present?"

"Well, Wikipedia says that all gifts should be given in multiples of eighteen for some reason," I said, "so, I have twenty bucks. Good enough for you?"

"If we were alone, I'd kiss you," Chuckie replied.

"Aw, ditto," I said. "Now where's the food?"

"It's all kosher," Chuckie said, wrinkling his nose.

"Well, we could cut the party and go get hot dogs," I said. "Real ones, with processed meat food."

"Mmm," Chuckie said. "Sounds good." As unbelievable as it sounds, we actually snuck out of the back of the…rec center or wherever the hell we were, and walked to the nearest hot dog stand, where we proceeded to get hot dogs with the works and sodas with my twenty bucks.

"This is so much better than…whatever's in there," I said. "What is in there?"

"Cake, I think," he said.

"That sounds good," I said. "So are we blowing this popsicle stand, or going back to the party?"

"Party," Chuckie said. "We wouldn't want them to have to come after us." We walked back to the rec center, but right before we went in, he kissed me on the cheek.

"What was that for?" I asked, smiling.

"Helping me be a bad Jew," he said. "And letting me use your tree house as a Temple. And buying me hot dogs." I laughed and we walked into the reception hall, where we were immediately spotted by Chuckie's Jewish grandmother who started going off on us 1) for leaving, and 2) for eating hot dogs because they're not kosher. Chuckie shook her off with the following argument: "Gramma, I'm a Man now. Run!" He and I then proceeded to run off to a different corner, where the basketball team was sitting, with some cheerleaders and Sarah.

"Look, boys, he's finally a Man," Zeke joked.

"Just because you're the oldest of us all, doesn't mean you have to be mean," Chuckie said. "_And_ we have hot dogs. And you don't." Zeke and Chad just laughed.

"Wait a sec," I said. "Where's Jared?"

"Oh," Chad said, looking at the ground. "You're not gonna like this."

"Tell me why I'm not gonna like this," I said.

"He quit the team," Chad said.

"Why?" I asked. There was a pause in which I thought. "Why?!"

"He chose _her_ over us," Chad said.

"He's dating Sharpay now?" I asked.

"As of Tuesday," Zeke said.

"Well, that makes three of us," I said. "What is wrong with her? Does she think if she dates enough of us, we'll all quit the team?"

"Evidently," Chad said. Sarah, Zeke's redheaded cheerleader Rachel, and Jason's blonde cheerleader Kelli all rolled their eyes. Ruby and Sapphire just looked at me with sympathetic faces.

"And where's Michael?" I asked.

"Oh, he's here," Chad said.

"Thank God," I said. "And all those other guys we're supposed to thank that I keep forgetting." Chuckie grinned. "He's a great ball player. It would suck to lose him."

"I think Jared'll come back around eventually," Chad said. "It's just a temporary lapse."

"Ts'yeah," I said. "As if."

"Besides, he's only a boyfriend-of-the-month," Jason said. "It'll never last."

**A/N: So. I don't mean to offend anyone with my lack of knowledge on Jewish practices. I have employed "Wikipedia says it so it must be true" on this chapter, sorry anyone I offend. This'll be the last time it's mentioned, hopefully, because it is really hard to understand.**

**So, yes, this "Jared" character is, in fact, Jared Murillo, Ashley Tisdale's boyfriend. I thought it was funny. You don't have to. I do. So Jared and Sharpay are now dating. And to anyone confused, so are Sarah and Chad.**

**I don't own anything, not even a poster of Kobe Bryant. (I do have one of Michael Jordan, though. It came with a house we bought. Go us.) Um…thanks for reading and please review? Yes. Please do.**

**Samantha.**

**(PS, for anyone keeping track of my daily updates, I did, in fact, **_**not**_** update last night (8-11) because I was watching the Olympics all night. I could lie and say it was in honor of Troy and Ryan's anniversary and Taylor's birthday, but that's a lie.)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen September 29, 2003 ( Samantha's 11****th**** birthday. Conceited moment. )**

"Today is sport's tryouts," Coach Murray announced to us during Gym. "There is some stupid new rule that says that even if you were on the team last year, you still have to try out to be on the team this year."

"Are you kidding?" Chad asked. Coach Murray shook his head. "That sucks!"

"You can't say 'sucks' in school," Coach Murray said. "And Coach Bolton from the high school will be helping me make decisions about the basketball team."

"Oh, good," Chad said. "First person on the team: Troy Bolton." He gestured at me as if I was a prize on The Price Is Right and he was a gorgeous model. The rest of the class laughed, and I rolled my eyes.

"That is not the way the team works, and you know it, Chad," Coach Murray said. "As for the girl's tryouts, Coach Myers will be observing that, and it'll be in the other half of the gym."

"And cheerleaders are just chopped liver?" one cheerleader popped up.

"Cafeteria," another one said, rolling her eyes.

"Now, you know you can't play basketball in the cafeteria," Coach Murray said. "Coach Atherton will be with them."

"And swimming?" some dude piped up.

"At the pool on Saturday," Coach Murray said. "Any more questions?"

"None for you," Chad mumbled.

"Good," Coach Murray said. "Now, stretches, everyone."

That afternoon, the guys and I were in the locker room, changing into our practice uniforms. And Zeke was freaking out.

"Guys, what if I lose my spot on the team?" he asked. "Oh, worse, what if I lose it to some sixth grader?"

"That is never gonna happen you guys," I said. "I'm the captain of this team, and I would never let Coach Murray do that. I'll quit the team before I let any of you four play for JV. Plus my dad loves you guys."

"I thought 'that's not how the team works'," Chad said.

"Ha," I said. "If only."

"What if it's us five and a whole bunch of sixth graders on the team?" Zeke asked.

"It's not gonna be," I said.

"Is Jared trying out?" Jason asked. None of us had spoken to him since the news that he was dating Sharpay came around.

"I don't know," I said. "If he knows what's good for him."

"Is that a threat, Bolton?" Coach Murray asked, walking in all of a sudden.

"No, Coach," I said. "Are you ready for us?" He nodded, and we all proceeded out to the left half of the gym. The girls were on the other half. The turnouts for tryouts was unbelievable. It took well over two and a half hours for us to all get done.

"Well, what an impressive turnout," my dad said. "I look forward to seeing a lot of you next year in high school." He looked at me when he said it, and I just looked at the ground. I could be the worst player in the world, and I'd still be the team captain, because my dad's the high school coach. Fortunately, I'm actually really good.

"The teams will be poster tomorrow before homeroom," Coach Murray said. "Now go home." The crowd dispersed and my dad walked over to me.

"Troy–" he began.

"I don't want to know, Dad, I'll read it tomorrow like everyone else," I said. "Can we give Chad a ride home?"

"Sure," my dad said. I made my way to the locker rooms. Only those of us on the team the year before had lockers, most of the sixth graders just went home. After changing, Chad and I went down to the cafeteria to get PowerAdes from the vending machines, and the most unholy sight met our eyes. A pyramid of cheerleaders with you'll never guess who on top. That's right, Sharpay Evans. Why? No idea. We decided to ask Ryan, who was sitting at the only table not folded up and put away, reading something that looked like it might have been a script.

"Uh, Ryan?" I asked. He jumped, closed the script, and looked at me.

"What are you doing here?" Ryan asked.

"I should ask you the same thing," Chad said.

"Um, cheer tryouts," Ryan said. Chad started giggling. "Not mine!"

"I know, I know," Chad said. Sharpay flounced over to us that second.

"Boys," she said.

"Sharpay," Chad and I said.

"Here ogling the cheerleaders?" Sharpay said, lifting an eyebrow.

"No," I said. "We were buying powerade."

"What are you doing here?" Chad asked. "We had an agreement!"

"I know!" Sharpay said, putting on a pout. "But this is my last year of middle school. And I'm the captain. The girls are looking to me to lead the team. I'll quit next year, I swear."

"You better," Chad said. "C'mon, Troy, I'm thirsty." We bought our Powerades and got out of there fast.

"I cannot believe her," I said. "We had an agreement."

"She promises to quit next year, Troy, just let her do what she wants. Everyone else does," Chad said.

"If everyone else jumped off a bridge, would you?" I asked. "Chad, that's exactly what she wants. Next thing we know, we'll be graduated and she'll be going to somewhere fancy on a cheerleading scholarship. What if she goes to the same place we go to play ball? She'd be there. Cheering. Every game."

"I really don't get what's so wrong about that," Chad said.

"Did the summer go to your head and make you dotty?" I asked.

"Dotty?" Chad asked.

"Whatever!" I practically shouted. "She's evil. She's Sharpay. She's the devil reincarnate. Spawn of Satan."

"I get it, I get it, I get it," Chad said. "But I don't get what's so bad about giving her the one thing that makes her happy."

"I–" I began, but words escaped me. "Well…fine! But she better quit next year."

"Exactly," Chad said. "Now stop worrying."

"I never do," I said.

Next morning, Chad came running up to me and Chuckie as we entered the school from the bus, chanting "Guess what?" over and over again.

"What what what what what?" I asked.

"Team list is posted," Chad announced. "And guess who's on our team?"

"Our team?" I asked. "Start at the beginning. Where'd Chuckie go?" He had run off down the hall to look at the lists.

"Yes!" he shouted. Chad and I looked at each other and sprinted down the hall after him.

"Anyway," Chad panted, "we're all on varsity. The five of us. So is Jared and Michael, and the whole rest of the team from last year. And some new kid. But isn't that awesome?"

"Do we get our own water boy?" I asked, examining the lists. "They made the team smaller."

"They invented a C Team," Chad said. "Varsity, JV, and C teams."

"So, did Sarah make girls varsity?" I asked.

"Duh," Chad and Chuckie said at the same time.

"Okay, you know, it's a little weird, you dating my sister," Chuckie said.

"No it isn't," Chad said.

"Yes it is," Chuckie said.

"And what about Sharpay?" I interrupted. "Did she make the squad?" The three of us turned around to look at the bulletin board bearing the cheerleading results behind us. I don't know why we even bothered to look, because when we did, it appeared that she'd been made captain again.

"Oh wellz," Chad said.

"No, not oh wellz," I said. "It's a disaster."

"Not really," Chuckie said. "So she's a cheerleader again."

"No, this means that she can break other parts of the agreement too," I said. "What if she starts asking us out again?"

"You gotta get yourself a girlfriend, man," Chad said. "Save you from the wretch."

"I'm good," I said. "I'd rather not have one at the moment."

Much to our surprise, she didn't break up with Jared that day, the last day of September. Actually, she kept dating him for a really long time. She even actually took him to the winter semi-formal. Chuckie and I took Ruby and Sapphire. Of course. Sarah and Chad went together. Jason went with Taylor McKessie, Zeke took his cheerleader, Rachel, and Ryan went with Kelsi.

"Dude, you're going to the dance with _Taylor McKessie_?" I asked incredulously. "You do know that Chad's got, like, this _insane_ crush on her?"

"No," Jason said. "I didn't know that actually."

"Well, now you do," I said.

"I'm still taking her," Jason said. I rolled my eyes.

"If Chad finds out, he will slaughter you," I warned him.

Friday night, the night of the dance. The night before Christmas vaca started (they thought it pointless for us to return on the 22nd for just one day of school) was the dance. December 19, 2003. My mom retied my tie about six times before she let me leave with Chuckie and the Eatons. Chad had, according to Chuckie, picked up Sarah some ten minutes previously. So it was no surprise to us that they beat us there. The Eatons left after dropping the four of us off as they hadn't been chosen for chaperones this time.

"So, Chad," I said, quickly, spotting Jason and Taylor just outside, "refreshments?"

"You read my mind," Chad said. He and Sarah left for the cafeteria.

"Girls," I said, quickly to Ruby and Sapphire. "Under penalty of death, Chad shall not find that Jason hath brought Taylor McKessie to this dance. Capisce?" Both girls saluted, and we walked down to the cafeteria to join Chad.

A Note To Any One Wondering: Yeah. The dance went well, yeah, me and Chuckie danced with Ruby and Sapphire. And _no_, Chad never found out that Jason brought Taylor. How? I have no idea. It was dark in there? You got me. There was this one point when it was getting painfully close, but we got it straightened out.

Well, the next seriously big event for us all was New Year's Eve. Sharpay and Ryan invited us, and all their friends, over to the Evans' Mansion for a party. Which was basically music, soda, candy, karaoke (ugh) and as many Tony's Pizza Rolls as you could eat. That was a lot of fun.

"Chad, are you going to Sharpay's party tonight?" I asked Chad on the phone on New Year's Eve.

"A-duh," Chad said.

"So I take it you're speaking to her again," I said.

"Troy, let's get something straight," Chad said. "I hate her, but she's beautiful and rich."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" I asked.

"Yes," Chad said. "She's beautiful and rich. That means something."

"What?"

"Something," Chad said.

"Okay," I said. "Are you going with Sarah?"

"A-duh," he replied.

"Coolio," I said. "Any chance you can pick up me and Chuckie too? Ruby and Sapphire can't make it. They're in…I don't know. Atlanta or something…"

"Yeah, sure," Chad said. "See you later. I gotta do my hair." I giggled.

"Sure, Chad," I said. "Me too."

"As if your hair is as high maintenance as mine," Chad said.

"Whatever, dude," I said. "See ya."

"See ya," Chad replied. I put the hall phone back on the receiver and rolled my eyes. When I turned around, Dylan was standing there.

"No, you can't come to the party," I said, before he could even ask.

"Why not?" Dylan asked.

"Because it's for eighth graders only," I said. "And seeing how you're a fifth grader, you don't go to our school, and you hate Sharpay, I think that's reason enough."

"Fine," Dylan said, pouting and stomping away.

"You can ask Mom, but she's gonna say no!" I called after him.

"Am I?" my mom asked from the kitchen. I walked the six steps into there and stared at her.

"Yes," I said. "Sharpay Evans is throwing a big New Year's Party tonight for eighth graders only, and Dylan can't go."

"Have you asked my permission to go to this party?" my mom asked.

"Yes," I said. "Like, two weeks ago, after the dance. Can I still go?"

"Did you clean your room?" she asked.

"Well, except for Chad's giant pile of clothes that have been accumulating here since the 1600's," I said.

"You can go," my mom said, smiling, and resuming to chop the green pepper she was chopping. I had to hurry upstairs to find something to wear, which doesn't usually annoy me that much. After I threw the seventeenth dirty shirt hanging in my closet into the hall, Dylan walked into my room and threw it back at me.

"Did I hit you?" I asked.

"No, I used my magical powers to rebound it at you," Dylan said, waving his hands mystically.

"I've told you a hundred times, you're too young to get you're Hogwarts letter," I said. "Now, see I got mine, but Mom and Dad wouldn't let me go, cuz Scotland is just way too far away." I threw the shirt back into the hall. "Now unless you've come to help me figure out what to wear, leave."

"You should wear that maroon and navy shirt, with your jeans," Dylan suggested. "And do something about your hair." He flipped around and walked out of the room.

"All right, where is she?" I asked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dylan called.

"She's here," I said. "Where is she?"

"No, I'm not!" Becca called from Dylan's room.

"Okay, then," I called back.

"I fooled you," Becca called. "I actually am." I rolled my eyes and put on the shirt that had been recommended.

"Oh, darn, you got me," I said. Dylan and Becca started giggling. I heard a honk from the street, and subconsciously ran my fingers through my hair to fix it, and ran downstairs to meet Chad.

The first long while of the party was spent desperately trying to avoid at all costs the living room, where there was live Evans twin karaoke. I mean, I don't mind Sharpay when she's being nice and I've never had a problem with Ryan, but sometimes they can just sing too much. I'll get used to it eventually, I guess. Chad and I found Jason and brought him down to a room down the hall that had a circle of comfy arm chairs and some dark blue glass objects (vases, plates, pitchers, and the like). There was a largish table in the middle of the circle. And it had a giant tray of Pizza Rolls on it, compliments of Sarah and Chuckie, who had gone to find some.

"Are we really just going to sit in here all night long?" Jason asked.

"No, at midnight, we're going to go count in the new year," Chad said.

"Where's Zeke?" Jason asked.

"He'd actually rather listen to the singing," Chad said. "I'm thinking he's got a thing for Sharpay."

"Yeah, right," Sarah said. "I think we'd notice."

"You would think," I said. "I don't want to sit in here all night. I'm going out."

"Okay," Chad said. "I'll be here. My watch goes off at midnight." As he got into a conversation with Sarah about just _which_ of his three watches went off at midnight, I ventured out into the living room, where there was being a small hiatus in the karaoke, and there were just playing some old hits.

"So, Troy," Sharpay said.

"No," I said, automatically.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," Sharpay said.

"Okay, that's fair," I said. "Please, continue."

"So, Jared and I are done," Sharpay said.

"No, Sharpay," I said again.

"I haven't asked yet!" Sharpay said, frustrated.

"Sorry, go on," I said.

"So, as I was saying Jared and I are done," she said.

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Oh, he…said…we're just gonna be friends," Sharpay said.

"You do that?" I asked.

"I _can_ do that," she said. "We're friends, aren't we?"

"Within reason," I said. "You were saying."

"I wasn't," Sharpay said, leaning dangerously close to me.

"You were," I said, pulling back. "And _no_."

"Fine!" Sharpay said, flipping her hair around (which hit me _really hard_ in the face) and storming away. Zeke showed up behind me as I was feeling my face for any cuts I might have sustained.

"Tough luck," he said. "At least she wants you."

"Do you have a thing for her?" I asked.

"No," he said, quickly. "No. Why would you ask that?"

"Because you always seem to be around when she's around," I said.

"Well, I don't!" he insisted.

"Okay. I'm sorry I brought it up," I said.

"You better be," Zeke said.

"I am!" I said.

"Okay," Zeke said. "Soda?"

"Sure," I said. We went over to the fountain machine and poured ourselves sodas. We hung out together most of the night, listening to the karaoke. Around 11:30, I was tired., and I collapsed into a couch on the side of the room. And that's where Chuckie found me and poked me awake.

"Is it 2004 yet?" I asked sleepily.

"I think you'd notice if it was," he said. "It's still 2003."

"M'kay," I said, sleepily, closing my eyes to go back to sleep.

"No, get up," Chuckie said, laughing. "You can sleep next year."

"They say that," I said. "You know, you can sleep when you're dead. My dad says it to me sometimes. When I won't get out of bed and practice." He didn't have anything to say to that. "And what with the game coming up next week, I don't see me getting a lot of sleep in the near future."

"If you'd sleep at night, you wouldn't have this problem," Chuckie said.

"Reality check: it is nighttime," I said.

"Get up," he said, poking me again. I sat up sleepily.

"Why?" I asked, blinking several times. "Midnight's not for a couple minutes."

"Yeah, but I'm here now," he said.

"You've been here all night," I said. "What so special about now?"

"I don't know," he said, taking a seat next to me on the couch, causing me to scoot to one side instead of sitting in the middle. I yawned and he giggled. "What time did you get up this morning?"

"Well, my dad woke up at six, as he reminded me about eight times while he was getting me up at eight, and then another seven while we were playing ball, and then another four while we had lunch, and then another time when I tried to take a nap on the couch, but ended up not because then he started vacuuming, like he always does on New Year's Eve," I said.

"Is that the only time your house ever gets vacuumed?" Chuckie asked, laughing.

"No, it gets done once in July before the big reunion, and also whenever Mom makes Dylan do it," I said. "Is it next year?"

"Almost," he said. The crowd started chanting at thirty, led by Sharpay on a microphone, and I laughed.

"This is the weirdest place I've ever spent New Year's," I said.

"Probably they'll get weirder," Chuckie reassured me.

"Five, Four, Three, Two, One!" Confetti was thrown, the people cheered, and I got a surprise kiss, unnoticed by everyone in the room.

"Happy New Year," Chuckie said.

"Happy New Year," I said. "Can I sleep now?"

"Sure," he said, evacuating my couch. "Do you know when Chad's leaving tomorrow?"

"I'm sure we won't get left here, don't get your panties in a bunch," I said, sleepily. He protested angrily, but I was asleep.

**A/N: I'm not sure what to write here. Something, I'm sure. I'm mirroring Troy's mood at the moment. "Just let me go to bed." I wasn't going to finish writing this, but I felt guilty, and I felt I had to get it out. I'm just too damn nice for my own good (my mom said that).  
**

**I don't own anything, and thanks for reading, and please review! A little random Dylan in this chapter, for the biggest Dylan Bolton fan there is out there (that's for **_**you**_**, Chloe) Haha. Um…I forgot where I was going with this paragraph. Leave me reviews, please! :D**

**Samantha.**

**PS, The song "I Want It All" by Ashley and Lucas is amazing. I, just like them, want it **_**all**_**. :P**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen. Friday, June 4, 2004. (The 8****th**** grade dance.)**

"So, who are you going to the 8th grade dance with?" Chad asked me. I shrugged. "Sapphire Eaton?"

"Probably," I said.

"Question. If she's not your girlfriend, then why are you dating her?" Chad asked.

"I'm not dating her," I said. "And it sure beats dating Sharpay."

"So you're dating her," Chad said.

"No!" I said. He rolled his eyes and continued down the hall to his own locker. Only week of school left, no one really cared anymore. On cue, Sharpay walked up behind me.

"Hi, Troy!" she said.

"What do you want, Sharpay?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "We're friends, right?"

"Barely," I said. "Did you want something?"

"I guess not," Sharpay said, walking away. I sighed.

"Come back here," I said, she was at my side in a second.

"Yes?" she asked.

"What is it that you want, and I promise I'll let you get the whole thing out before I say no," I said.

"Please, please, please, come to the dance with me," she said. I didn't say anything. "I'm finished, you can say no now."

"No," I said.

"Come _on_, Troy! Please?!" she asked.

"No," I said again. "I have to go with Sapphire."

"Uck," Sharpay said. "Really. Can't you find someone else to go out with?"

"No," I said. "I like her."

"And you don't like me?" Sharpay asked.

"Not at all," I said.

"Not even a little bit?" she asked.

"Maybe a little bit," I said.

"So, do you wanna come to the dance with me?" she asked.

"No!" I said for the fourth time. "I'm going with Sapphire. But I'll see you there." She pouted. "Do you need a date?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm fresh out of people to go with."

"Did you ask Zeke?" I said, dully.

"No," she said. "Why would I?"

"No idea," I said. "Why don't you just not go with anybody?"

"I can't do that!" she said.

"Then this is out of my control," I said, slamming my locker to go to English. Unfortunately she hurried after me.

"Troy–" she began. I turned around to face her.

"I am not some kind of last resort just because _you_ can't find a date," I said. "I am capable of getting my own date, so why aren't you?" She didn't have anything to say to that, so I continued on down the hall. Later that afternoon, I ran into Ruby and Sapphire on my way out of the school. Not literally.

"Troy," Ruby said.

"Ruby," I said.

"Troy," Sapphire said.

"Can we cut to the chase?" I asked.

"Right," Sapphire said. "Okay, don't clash us, and we'll pick you up at six."

"Sweet," I said, hurrying out of the school, and straight into Ryan. Literally. "Crap, sorry, Ryan." I picked up his hat that I'd accidentally knocked off and handed it to him.

"Uh, sure," Ryan said. "Have you seen my sister?"

"Uh, not since earlier," I said.

"When?" he said.

"It was right after lunch," I said.

"Where was she?" he asked.

"She was by my locker," I said. "And then I went to English."

"I can't find her," Ryan said.

"That's…unusual," I said. "She needs a cell phone."

"She has one," Ryan said. "It's in her locker."

"Oh, not helpful then," I said. He looked so lost, I couldn't help myself. "Okay, look, I'm gonna go put my stuff in my dad's car, and then I'll help you look for her, okay?"

"Thanks," he said. I ran out to the parking lot to put my book bag and gym bag in my dad's car before hurrying back into the school.

"Okay, if I were Sharpay, where would I be?" I asked the hallway at large.

"I did that already," Ryan said. "She's not in Ms. Darbus's room, the auditorium, the gym, or the cafeteria." I thought for a moment.

"And no one's seen her since lunch?" I asked. He nodded. "I know where she is." I sighed. "Come on." He followed me through the school, out the back door, across the soccer field, through the fence, across the road, through the parking lot and into the YMCA.

"Why would she be here?" Ryan asked, as I walked up to the desk.

"Excuse me," I said to the receptionist. "Is Sharpay Evans here?" The receptionist looked down her list and nodded.

"Yeah, she's in the gym," she said.

"Thank you," I said. "See, easy as pie." I took Ryan into the gym, where, sure enough, there was Sharpay, flipping around on the mats in a gymnastic type manner.

"Sharpay!" Ryan said, rushing over to her.

"Um, Ryan?" Sharpay said. "Troy? What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I was coming back," she said. "We really need to get new mats at the school."

"School's been over for an hour and a half," Ryan said. "We've been looking everywhere for you. You can't just leave school whenever you want."

"I'm Sharpay Evans! I can do whatever I want!" Sharpay said. I took it as a sign to leave the gym, so I did, but before I'd left the YMCA, I decided I just couldn't. Whatever made her leave, it was my fault, so I had to fix it.

"Shar?" I called into the gym. She looked at me. "You still want me to go to the dance with you?" She nodded. "Okay. I will."

"What about Sapphire?" Sharpay said. "You said you had to go with her."

"Um, I'll call her," I said. "I'm sure it'll be alright. See you later." I left the Y and went back to the school just before my dad was leaving. When we got home, I cringed and then called Sapphire. When I had her on the phone, I cringed again. "Uh, Sapphire, don't kill me, please, but I can't go to the dance with you."

"Why?" she said.

"I kind of said I'd go with Sharpay," I said. "I'm sorry!"

"Well," Sapphire said, contemplating over what she was going to say. "I never."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Here, let me tell you the story." I proceeded to tell her the story.

"Oh, so it's your fault, and you're going to fix it?" she asked. "You make no sense Troy. Okay, I guess I'll see you there."

"Are you mad at me?" I asked.

"Not as much as I could be," she said. "I'll see you later." I could hear the laugh in her voice.

"Okay, bye," I said.

"Bye," she said. We hung up the phone and I sighed.

"What's the matter, honey?" my mom asked from the kitchen. I walked in there and sat on the counter.

"I think Sapphire's mad at me because I have to go to the dance with Sharpay," I said.

"Seems like your problem," Dylan said.

"Be good, Dylan," my mom said. "Why do you have to go with Sharpay?"

"Oh, just cuz," I said. "And it's super-complicated, and about thirteen other people are gonna hate me. This summer might be really boring. Especially if I only get to hang out with Dylan."

"Hey!" Dylan said. "I'm fun to hang out with! I can be cool! I'll be eleven this summer! I'm starting sixth grade!"

"Yeah, and I'm starting high school," I said. "My life is so over."

"Because you're going to be a freshman next year?" my mom asked. I cringed.

"Mother, do not use that word," I said. "People could hear you."

"What, freshman?" she said.

"Shh!" I said. "Don't use it!" She laughed.

"There is nothing wrong with being a freshman," she said. "Everyone has to be one."

"Yeah, you're not helping," I said. "I gotta get ready." I stole the phone from the hall on my way up to my room and called Sharpay's house. After asking the Butler for Sharpay, I finally got her on the phone.

"Troy, you have really got to get my cell number," she said.

"Yeah, okay," I said. "I'll get right on that. What are you wearing tonight?"

"Does it matter?" she asked.

"We can't clash," I said. She giggled.

"I've trained you well," she said. "I'm wearing off-white with purple flowers. If you did something in purple, it'd match."

"What, no pink?" I asked, laughing.

"You want to wear pink?" she asked. "I'm sure I have something in my closet…"

"No, that's okay," I said. "Purple is embarrassing enough."

"Okay, Troy, we'll pick you up at six?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "And if you could bring a vehicle that's not pink, I would really appreciate it."

"Can do," she said. When the she and Ryan arrived at six, I was surprised. They hadn't brought their bright pink limo. Or a limo at all. It was a simple dark blue…car. "The black limo's in the shop getting ready for graduation next week," Sharpay explained. "And you said no pink. So we have a car."

"It's interesting," I said. "I wouldn't have thought you'd own a car."

"Of course we own cars," Sharpay said. "In two years, I'll have my own." I rolled my eyes thinking of the Barbie dream car she'd get for her sixteenth birthday.

"So, a limo for graduation, huh…" I said. She went off on a tangent about the importance of having the right transportation for special occasions, and I tuned her out. When we got to the school, Chad saw me, then saw Sharpay, and his jaw dropped. I made a face like a fish trying to keep from saying something.

"Danforth," Sharpay said to him, rolling her eyes. "And which slut have you selected to bring with you today?" Her eyes traveled over Sarah, and she snorted.

"Um…Troy, can I talk to you?" Chad said. He didn't wait for an answer; instead he just grabbed my sleeve and pulled me down a hallway. "Dude, what the hell are you thinking?!"

"Um, I'm thinking, when I said no, she started crying, left school, and no one could find her for hours," I said.

"And?" Chad asked.

"What do you mean 'and'?" I said. "She was really upset!"

"But you're _just_ her date, right?" Chad said. "Because if she starts eating at our lunch table together, it is not gonna be good."

"Chill, Chad," I said. "There is a whole four days of school left. One of them is the class trip, one of them we get to get thrown around the high school showing people around. And another one is just marching all day for graduation. You have no part in this. Now, if you don't mind…"

"You are insane," Chad said. "What about the pact?"

"You broke the pact last year, smarty-pants," I said. "Now excuse me." I pushed his arm off of mine and walked back to Sharpay and Ryan. I could feel the glares of just about all the basketball players on me as we went into the cafeteria where the dance was being held.

"Troy," Zeke began.

"I don't want to hear it, Zeke," I said. "This isn't my fault. If you wish to complain to someone, talk to Chad."

"I was just going to say, we're sitting over here," he said.

"Oh. Sorry," I said. Sharpay, Ryan, and I went over to the table were Jason and Zeke were sitting with their cheerleaders (Lauren and Rachel). Zeke and Rachel had been going out for a while, about as long as Chad and Sarah, who were sitting at a different table across the room with Chuckie, Ruby, and Sapphire.

"This could get really awkward," Zeke said, suddenly. I nodded. "Are they angry at us?"

"No," I said. "Just me."

"Where's Kelsi?" Jason asked Ryan suddenly.

"She's not here," Sharpay said. "She had to do something else."

"I'm sure we could wrangle you up a cheerleader to dance with," Zeke said. "If you wanted."

"He's fine," Sharpay said.

"Does he talk?" Lauren asked interestedly.

"Yes, he talks," Sharpay said. Ryan rolled his eyes.

"I am perfectly capable of answering my own questions, thank you," Ryan said, standing up and breezing across the cafeteria to Chad's table, where he sat back down again.

"That was weird," Rachel remarked. "Oh well." Sharpay shrugged.

And so on the dance went, for hours on end, it seemed. Them against us. To tell the truth, I would have much rather have been a "them". When I got home, I didn't even stop to talk to my parents, just continued upstairs. Dylan was awake, which annoyed me.

"Dylan, this is not the right time to have an in-depth talk about life," I said. He'd been doing that lately.

"I just wanted to see how the dance went," he said innocently.

"Oh really?" I asked. He nodded. "It was fine. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"No," he said.

"Then can't you just leave my room?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"What do you want?!" I asked.

"Why do you play basketball?" he asked.

"Because I'm good at it," I said. He raised his eyebrows. "Really!"

"It doesn't have anything to do with Dad?" he asked.

"No!" I said.

"If you say so," he said. "Do you think I should play?"

"You're terrible," I said. "But you'll get better if you practice."

"Will you practice with me?" he asked.

"If you don't mind getting beat," I said.

"Okay," he said. He left my room, and I shook my head. Dylan was terrible. This was going to be painful.

We couldn't practice the next morning, because everyone (the eighth graders) had to get on two buses at the crack of dawn (five) to drive six and a half hours to Colorado to go to "America's Biggest and Best Water Park". It happened to the eighth graders every year, and we were all really excited. It had awesome rides. You're thinking "Colorado? In June? You'll freeze." Ha. We're tough. And it was sunny as hell that day. A couple years ago it rained and ruined their whole trip. On the whole freaking six and a half hours up there, I was sitting next to Sharpay, who would say to me every three seconds "Have you heard _this_ song?!" and stuff and earbud in my ear. Not that I don't like hearing new songs, but it was annoying. Remind me to never go long distance with her again.

So, after we got our bracelets and water tubes. You have to rent them, but we all got free ones with our trip. Even Sharpay was excited to go swimming and not just tan. Chad was still refusing to speak to me, so Chuckie and I took a lazy river trip down the lazy river on our inner tubes. After a long bit of silence, I decided to say something.

"This trip is going to get really awkward if you don't say something," I said.

"How could you?" he said.

"Not exactly what I meant," I said. "How could I what?"

"Just how could you?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?" I said. "Look, it's none of your business, okay?"

"No," he said, dropping his voice about five levels. "No, it is _not_ okay, because I am your boyfriend, and I am getting possessive."

"Um, okay," I said. "Go ahead?"

"I am going to go right ahead," he said. "And of all people, Sharpay? Honestly?"

"Look, this isn't about her," I said. "She was crying, she ran away from school. I did her a favor and made an appearance as her date."

"And then sat with her today," he said.

"That was not my fault," I said. "I was sitting, she sat down next to me."

"You could've told her to move," Chuckie said. "But'cha didn't."

"No," I said. "But if it helps, she was really annoying."

"It helps a little," he said. He went back to staring around the river.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm not dating her. I promise."

"Okay," he said. There was a silence as we rounded another corner. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked.

"Getting all possessive just now," he said.

"That's okay," I said. "Be possessive. You're allowed to."

"But I don't want to," he said. "And I shouldn't. Because you're not really mine."

"I'm…not?" I asked.

"No," he said. "You don't belong to me, and you never will." He sighed dramatically.

"Sharpay much?" I asked. He frowned. "I'm glad you think you don't own me?"

"That's not what I meant," he said. "I mean, you…you know…something, something, something…Ryan?"

"Oh yeah," I said. "But…"

"No, there is no but," he said. "All you could talk about for the last two years is Ryan, and suddenly you can't remember he exists?"

"I…no," I said. "I haven't forgotten he exists. He's Sharpay's brother, isn't he?"

"Oh," he said, a grin creeping onto his face. "Oh. That's why you're doing it."

"Why I'm doing what?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"You go right ahead and date Sharpay," Chuckie said. "I'm not stopping you."

"I don't wanna date her," I said.

"Okay, whatever you say," he said, grinning. "Don't come crying to me when your plan doesn't work."

"What plan?" I asked. "Why wouldn't it work? What plan?"

"Okay, you act all innocent," he said. "I'm going to the wave pool." He hopped off his inner tube and climbed out of the river. I followed him, carrying my inner tube.

"Seriously, I have no idea," I said.

"You have no idea," he said. I nodded. "You are trying to date Sharpay in order to get close to Ryan and luuuuuuure him in."

"I'm _what_?" I asked. It was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. He just nodded. "I…d'you think that would work?"

"No!" he said. "It never works. Makes you look like an idiot is what it does."

"And I don't want that," I said.

"Exactly," he said.

"You're making me confused," I said. "What's so bad about being Sharpay's date?"

"Think about the awkward factor of this conversation: 'Yeah, Shar, I'd love to date you, but I've really got the hots for your brother'," Chuckie said. "Long awkward pause from Sharpay before she whips you with her hair and has the butler evict you from the premises and vows never to speak to you again."

"And that's…bad?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Just drop it, okay? Do whatever you want. You're a big boy."

"I'm fourteen," I said.

"Okay," he said. "C'mon." We'd reach the wave pool, and splashed in. I put my inner tube around my waist and swam over to join the guys. Chad rolled his eyes and looked away from me.

"Chad, I swear, I will never talk to you again, give you free rides, or buy you ice cream if you don't stop ignoring me," I said.

"And I won't let you date my sister," Chuckie added. Chad sighed and turned back around.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said. "But you're being an ass."

"I have every right to," Chad said.

"No you don't," I said.

"No you don't," Zeke agreed.

"No you don't," Chuckie said.

"So how about that Flatline?" Jason said. The four of us stared at him. "Just changing the subject. I wanna ride some rides."

"I wanna eat," Zeke said. "I could use some cookies or something…"

"Oh, shit, here is comes again!" someone yelled. A giant wave was emanating from the way deep end of the pool. It splashed over all of us.

"Awesome," I said. "This is so cool."

"Hell yeah," Chad agreed. He shook his head about and the water from his hair went everywhere as we swam and floated our way back to "shore".

"This is so much better than The Beach," Jason said. The Beach is the water park that Sharpay took us to the last summer. It was really lame in comparison to this.

"So lame," Chad asked.

"Duh," I said. "Lunch?"

"Word," Chad said. The five of us wandered around before selecting a place to eat. Pizza, hamburgers, the works. That kind of stuff. When we were finished, we wandered around for a bit before ending up at the entrance to some of the awesome rides, all the while dragging your inner tubes, because we can't lose them, as they keep telling us.

"Flatline, ladies and gentlemen," Chad said, "is here. Who wants to go first?" Staring at a giant waterslide (80 feet with a 70 degree incline) from directly underneath is terrifying. "Okay, wimps, I'll go first." Chad started marching up the stairs. We all exchanged looks and followed him.

"Now Chad, if you don't make it to the bottom–" Zeke began.

"Can I have your stereo?" Chuckie asked. We all laughed.

"–tell us, so that we don't go. Okay?" Zeke finished. Chad got very pale all of a sudden.

"Why wouldn't I make it to the bottom?" he asked. He was sitting in the top of the slide. "Excuse me, lady, you run this ride. I'll make it to the bottom, right? Alive?" The lady sitting on the stool under the umbrella looked at us like we were insane.

"Yeah," she said. "Are you ready?" She gave us some instructions, and then Chad closed his eyes tight and took the plunge. We could see him jump out at the bottom. There was a giant grin on his face and he waved at us. We waved back. Zeke went next, then Jason, then me. Only Chuckie was left at the top. All four of us had gone, and none of us had died.

"C'mon, Chuck, don't be a wuss!" Chad yelled.

"He can't hear you," I said.

"Oh, then be a wuss, I don't care," Chad said. I laughed. He eventually came down the slide, and we all applauded him.

"I am never doing that again," he announced.

"Don't have to," Zeke said. "What's next?" We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the park with our inner tubes (that we'd left at the bottom of the Flatline when we'd gone on it, because it's not that kind of ride). We rode on a majority of the rides, and when the park closed at six, they put us back on the buses and bused us off to some hotel that they were putting us up in for the night. It was an okay hotel, most likely booked at a discounted group rate. It was a weird hotel, and four to a room. Which unfortunately meant me, Chad, Zeke, and Jason in our room. We didn't really mind, though. And (surprise!) our room adjoined with Sharpay, Ruby, Sapphire, and Rachel's room. Why they were all rooming together, I'll never really know. They just…were. I don't think the chaperones ever realized our rooms connected, otherwise they probably would have put a stop to it. Sharpay, giggling, ran into our room after we'd been there a while.

"We just had a pillow fight," she said, giggling.

"And we missed it?" Chad asked. He pouted.

"No!" Sharpay said, stealing the pillow off his bed and hitting him with it. Ruby and Sapphire both ran in with pillows, also giggling. Even Rachel made an appearance. The four of us guys grabbed pillows and we started a pillow war. In the end truce was called, because the girls were winning (due to their superior gymnastics skills from cheerleading) and we really didn't want to lose.

"You know what I want? Right now?" Jason said.

"No idea," Rachel said.

"Maple candy," Jason said.

"Mm," Sharpay said. "That's good stuff."

"It is," Chad said. There was a pause and then he looked around the room. "This is weird."

"What is?" Zeke asked.

"Uh, we just had a pillow fight with the people we don't like, and now we're talking to them," Jason said.

"Yeah," Chad said. "That."

"You don't like us?" Ruby said. "Okay, we'll leave." She and Sapphire exchanged looks and collapsed into fits of giggles on one of the beds.

"That was a lie," Rachel explained to Chad. "They're not gonna leave."

"Yeah, we got that," Jason said.

We laughed around a bit until curfew (whoever invented curfew should be…I don't know. Some form of ancient death like…hanging or death by guillotine or drawn and quartered) and then they went into their own room and slammed the door. We slammed our door too for good measure, and locked it, also for good measure.

The next morning, we all got back on the bus, and back to the water park. Yeah, two days at the park. Score us. The day was spent pretty much the same as the day before, because nothing that interesting happened. Oh, we managed to convince Sharpay it was a good idea to float directly next to the place where the waves in the wave pool generated, and she got knocked completely off her tube and underwater. After she recovered from the initial shock, she thought it was pretty funny and decided to play the same trick on some of her cheerleaders.

We spent that night in the same hotel, and then Monday morning the buses took us back to New Mexico, where we didn't get until the afternoon, just in time to take buses home from school. Which is exactly what a whole bunch of eighth graders want. To be on buses.

"I'm home!" I announced when I got home. My mom came running in from the laundry room (not doing laundry. Dad does the laundry. I have no idea what she was doing out there).

"Did you have fun?" she asked, immediately taking my gym bag that had served as my suitcase.

"Yeah!" I said. "I can't wait to go back!"

"Maybe when you're older," she said.

"What was it like?" Dylan asked me for the fortieth time. He'd been bugging me the entire bus ride home.

"It was like the Beach only not lame," I said. "Now drop it. Or I'll never play basketball with you." He went directly to his room.

Tuesday was an actual school day. We did…nothing. It was fun. Wednesday, all the 8th graders had to go to the high school to walk around and try to find our classes. And eat ice cream. Which was yummy. It really was. Thursday was our practice marching day. We all lined alphabetical order by homeroom and marched in and out of the gym all day long. It gets boring unless you're someone who's snuck a CD player into it (cough Chuckie cough). He didn't get caught though. Thursday afternoon my mom made me take a shower, and fix my hair, and put on a tie (not _just_ a tie, clothes too, you get the picture) and she took a billion pictures of me and then made me sit down and open my present. Why I got a present, I'll never figure out.

"Please be a car," I said, opening the box. "Okay, it's…not a car."

"It's a laptop," my dad explained, showing me how it functioned like I was a total idiot or something. "Ooh, and this is cool too." He ran over to his office and came back out dragging a piece of equipment. "It's a DSL!"

"A what?" I asked.

"You can connect to it from anywhere in the house, no wires! And no dial-up!" he exclaimed proudly.

"The nice Verizon man explained it to him," my mom said. "And we're giving Dylan your old computer."

"Okay," I said.

"And the best part is that while the 'nice Verizon man' was here, he hooked up all the computers and transferred your files!" my dad said. He was really happy.

"Okay, thanks, I guess?" I said. "I mean, thanks."

"You're welcome," my mom said. "Now get your brother before we're late." We showed up fifteen minutes early, and I went to join the other early graduationeers. That's not a word. I just made it up. We lined up alphabetically by homeroom and marched into the gym to our class song (believe it or not "For Good" from Wicked. It had phenomenal backup by two certain blond-haired people, if you catch my drift…). We sat up on the stage. Principal Hatcher talked for a while, Superintendant Turner talked for a while, Ms. Darbus talked for a while, Sharpay sung For Good for no apparent reason other than she could, and then we all got to stand up and proceed across the risers for our diplomas. Some of the cheerleaders (not Sharpay, because Sharpay was wearing a dress and stilettos) tumbled (gymnastically) across the risers for applause. When we were all finished, they played "Graduation" by Vitamin C and we walked back out of the gym. Then it was over. Sharpay pulled a huge wad of envelopes out of her purse.

"Come to my birthday party!" she announced. "One week from today! My house! Free food, soda, and music!" I tried to slip past her, but she grabbed me by the sleeve. "Troy, babe. Here's your invitation. Come to my birthday party?"

"Course," I said, rolling my eyes when she wasn't looking. "Wouldn't miss it." I opened my invitation, which, unlike all the others, had my name on it. It read "Troy, darling, come to my birthday party. Same place, same time. Wink, wink. Love, Sharpay". There were pink hearts everywhere.

"See you then!" Sharpay called to me, and I just shook my head and continued to where my parents and Dylan were.

"Oh, no," I said to myself.

"What's that?" Dylan asked, snatching the invitation out of my hand.

"Take it," I said.

"Ew, she likes you," Dylan said. "This letter has cooties." He tried to hand it back to me, but I didn't want it and it fell on the floor.

"Letters can't have cooties," I said. "Actually, there's no such thing as cooties. You should know that."

"It. Has. Cooties," Dylan said, as I picked it up and put it in my pocket.

"Does not," I said.

**A/N: Holy cow, monster chapter. Longest. Ever. Seriously. I'm sure. Anyway, I spent all day writing this. Why? I have no idea. But I own neither The Beach (real place) nor the water park they go to (called Water World in Federal Heights, CO) because they are real places. And I really, really want to go to Water World. Unfortunately, I live about 2000 miles from it. Jealous, I am. I also don't own HSM, or Wicked, or, you know, all that stuff I don't own. Thanks for reading and please review! Monster chapter equals monster reviews? I hope so.**

**Samantha.**

**PS, and the gymnastics? Well, I got really into the Olympics. Go figure. It might be important later. Who knows? (I do!) I wish I was a good gymnast.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen. Wednesday, September 1, 2004. (Freshman Year.)  
–In Which We Encompass All of Freshman Year in One Chapter, and You Find Out Who Ryan's First Kiss Really Was.  
**

"Troy, let me see," Rachel asked. I shook my head. "Seriously."

"Mm-mm," I said.

"They're not that bad," Sarah said.

"I think they're cute," Sharpay said.

"Really?" I asked, smiling. Everyone immediately turned their attention to my smile and I closed my mouth and frowned. It didn't matter that I'd grown four inches over the summer. No one cared (well, except my dad, because the only thing he cared about was basketball). The biggest news in the school (hard to believe) was that I got _GASP_ braces. Green ones, that month. And it was all anyone at freshman day could talk about. I'm sure that Chad could have professed his love for Zeke and made announcements detailing their unborn child that was being carried by Jason and no one would have noticed. We'd been walking around all morning having mock classes, and now they were giving us barbeque. And _still_ all anyone could talk about were my teeth.

"Green, really?" Chad asked. "I would have taken you for a blue dude."

"Maybe next month," I mumbled taking a big bite of cheeseburger.

"I still think they're cute," Sharpay said. "I think I've always had a soft sot for guys with braces. That and guys who wear American Eagle."

"Thanks, Shar," I said. "But if anyone says 'it's cool to flash a silver smile', I will have to hurt them." The table we were sitting at laughed.

"Okay, so you'll never believe what happened in our math class," Rachel said.

"No, I wanna tell it," Chad said. "So, we're sitting there and some girl raises her hand and goes 'what if you need to go to the bathroom?' and the teacher says something about hall passes, and then the girl goes 'and what if you need a tampon?' and the teacher starts talking about the machines in the bathroom and then the girl goes 'but what if you don't have a quarter?'." There was dead silence from everyone at the table. "If you'd have been there, you would have thought it was funny. I'm sure."

"I'm sure," I agreed, rolling my eyes. "Ever thought of having Zeke's love child with Jason?"

"What?" Chad asked.

"Nothing," I said, quickly. I don't think he heard me, but Sharpay and Chuckie, who were sitting on either side of me, cracked up. "So, who's excited for the scavenger hunt?"

"Not me," Chad said.

"Are the seniors really gonna pants us?" Jason asked.

"It's freshman day," Sharpay said. "There are no seniors here."

"I meant tomorrow," Jason said. "I don't wanna get pantsed."

"No one is getting pantsed," I said. "And if you do, the seniors will have me to talk to. Or maybe Sharpay." Everyone laughed again.

Later that afternoon, I was walking around the school with my scavenger hunt paper in hand. Chad hurried over to me as he saw me.

"Dude," he said.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Okay, there's this chick in my English class, and I think she might be helpful to our…you know…thing," Chad said.

"Oh, really?" I asked, not at all interested. I'd honestly given up the whole Board of Secrets bullcrap and given the job to Chad. "What's her name?"

"I don't know," Chad said. "There she is, right there." He pointed down the hall. I followed his point, and saw Kelsi Nielson standing, looking at a bulletin board.

"Kelsi?" I asked.

"Yeah," Chad said. "She's supposed to be really good friends with Sharpay, and maybe she could give us some insight into…you know…"

"No, but I'll pretend I do," I said. "Why don't you recruit her?" I walked away to go find the signatures of all the teachers in the science department.

Still later that afternoon was basketball tryouts. Zeke came up to me in the locker rooms.

"Did you meet the new chick?" he asked.

"There's a new chick?" I asked.

"Kelsi…something…" he said. "She's cute."

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" I asked.

"No, we broke up," he said.

"When?" I asked.

"After Sharpay's birthday party," Zeke said, matter-of-factly. "Anyway, Kelsi is so cool."

"Good, find a new person to drone on and on about how cute you think they are," I said.

"I did," Zeke said. "Kelsi…" There was a pause while I pulled my practice jersey on. "Why? Who else have a talked about all the time?"

"Uh, Sharpay?" I suggested.

"I don't talk about her!" Zeke said. "I would never talk about your girlfriend."

"Okay," I said. "I believe you. And just between you and me…she's not my girlfriend."

To cut a long story really short, this is how it went: Zeke asked out Kelsi, and she said yes, and they went out a couple times. (Okay, more than a couple.) That is all the time I am going to spend on that topic, because it's just…weird.

"Oh, my God!" I shouted at the top of my lungs the next morning, as I walked into the school and saw the bulletin board. Then I squealed.

"Dude, don't do that," Chuckie warned me, coming up behind me. "People are gonna get the wrong– Oh, my God!" He began jumping up and down and squealing as well. We looked at each other, stopped, and coughed. Chad walked up behind us, alerted by all the squealing.

"What the hell is wrong with you guys? We're freshmen, don't call attention to us," he said. He turned to look at what we were looking at. "Oh, my God!" He jumped up and down, without squealing. Chuckie and I grabbed a hold of him and held him down.

"We're freshmen, don't call attention to us," Chuckie reprimanded him. Chad just looked at him.

"_This_ is okay to jump about," he said, tapping the bulletin board. I grinned.

"We made JV," the three of us cheered. "We made JV." Jason and Zeke showed up behind us, looked down the bulletin board and frowned.

"We _didn't_ make JV," Zeke said. "Damn freshman team."

"That _sucks_," Jason said.

"I'm sure there was a limited number of slots open on the roster," Chad said. "Maybe some more will open up."

When I got home that night, I decided to bitch to my dad about the results. I took the bus to and from school out of force of habit, even though my dad worked there.

"Dad," I announced when he got home. "I made JV!"

"I know," he said, walking into the living room and sitting down. "Sorry about that. There were no more roster spots on the Varsity team."

"I…whatever," I said. "And Chad and Chuckie made it too. But Jason and Zeke are stuck on the freshman team."

"Mhm," my dad said, turning on the TV.

"Dad," I said, walking in front of the TV and blocking his view of the baseball game. "Seriously. That's my team."

"I hear you," my dad said. "Can I please watch my game? The D-backs are having a terrible season."

"You better do something about it," I said, leaving the room.

Sure enough, by the next week, Jason and Zeke had somehow traveled their way from the freshman team onto the JV team. It wasn't the way they'd planned to start their high school basketball careers, but, honestly, how do you deal with that? I meant what I'd said. There was no way I was playing on a team without my whole team. We're a team, and we're all in this together.

In October, my dad received a serious upset when the Red Sox won the World Series for the first time in, like, 86 years. Honestly, I could care less about baseball. I'm bad at it, and I really don't follow it. Chad whined about it for days as well. In November, a second upset came. Bush got re-elected. By cheating. Again. It was hard to believe. That sucked. I whined about it for weeks.

So, to get on with the story, because this is getting kind of long and pointless, Sharpay and I had started going on dates, to the movies and all those other places. Her cheerleading practice got out the same time as my basketball practice (we were both on JV) and she would insist we do things. She got her driver to drive us places (in the car, not the limo). We'd go out, do stuff, and then go back to my house, and hang there (sometimes she stayed for dinner. Mom and Dad really pretended to like her. Dylan really did _not_, but he was working on it), and then she'd go home. When basketball ended, we started going right after school. Out for pizza, to the mall, anywhere we could. One night in May, she told me that her parents were home, and asked me if I wanted to go to her house for dinner. It really kind of freaked me out. Like we were getting too serious or something, and made up a thing about having to get home. She was relatively understanding, if the serious cold should I got the next morning was any indication.

"What did you do to her?" Zeke asked me.

"Uh…nothing," I said.

"He doesn't want to meet her parents," Chuckie said. I'd called him to whine to the night before. "Because, really, who does?"

"I would…" Zeke said, sighing and staring after her.

"What?" Chad asked.

"Nothing," Zeke said. "As I was saying, you gotta get out of there, man. Ball and chain."

"Nah, I like it," I said. Everyone stared at me, Chuckie the hardest. "She's nice. Sometimes."

"She is never nice, dude," Chad said. "She's Sharpay Evans. This is the same girl who you dated from Kindergarten until the seventh grade, simply because she's insane and thinks you're gonna get married someday."

"Maybe we will," I said. Chuckie looked even more interestedly at me. "And I mean, if that's true, Chad, you'll probably end up marrying Taylor McKessie. Although you probably will anyway." Chad looked like he'd been hit in the face with a frying pan. Zeke started laughing.

"Take that back," Chad said. "I hate her. Take it back, take it back, take it back."

"I will not," I said. I turned around and started walking to homeroom. Chuckie had to hurry to catch up with me.

"Are you really gonna marry her?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "I hate her. She's gonna end up with someone like Jared or Zeke."

"And you?" Chuckie asked, amused.

"Ryan, obviously," I said. "Don't worry, I haven't given him up."

"Just checking," he said. "I got worried. So, are we still on for tonight then?"

"Uh…yeah," I said, kind of thrown off. "What are we doing again?"

"We're going with Ruby and Sapphire for clothes to wear to Semi-Formal," he said. "Or has Sharpay roped you into doing something else?"

"Uh, no," I said. "No, we're good. Does Sapphire have a date?"

"Course," Chuckie said. "We don't need you to have good looking dates. She's going with Ryan." He grinned. My jaw dropped.

"Okay, start over. Who's going with whom?" I asked.

"You're going with Sharpay. I'm going with Ruby. Sapphire's going with Ryan. Zeke and Kelsi are going together, and Jason's going with Taylor McKessie," Chuckie summarized. "And Chad and Sarah are going."

"How long have they been going out?" I asked.

"Long, long time," he said. "And don't make me keep him and Taylor apart again. That's terrible."

"Who's Rachel going with?" I asked. She'd randomly become part of our little group. She was almost like Sharpay's best friend, except for not, because they really hated each other.

"I think she's going with Ricky," Chuckie said. "Can you believe he had to repeat his freshman year?"

"No," I said. "Well, really, yes. He's such an idiot. I can't believe that he got his grades up again in time to play football again." Ricky was the stupid football guy who'd annoyed us at the movies that one time. He was a jerk.

"Yup," Chuckie agreed. Ms. Darbus walked into the room and started the class. Right after school, Mr. Eaton picked us up, and the four of us (minus Mr. Eaton) went shopping for semi-formal stuff. I assumed I had something at home to wear, but went with it anyway. Around the time we were walking past the Deb's, my cell phone rang. I'd gotten it for my birthday, because my parents thought I needed it. It was Sharpay.

"Yeah?" I answered it.

"I can see you," she said, laughing. I turned around, spotted her next to a potted plant and laughed, closing my phone. I motioned her over and she came running over, Ryan in tow. I was relatively unsurprised.

"What, did you stalk us here?" I asked. "Creeper."

"You weren't very quiet in homeroom," she said. "My desk is right next to yours."

"True," I said. "You need another new dress? Didn't you just get one for the Snowball?"

"Maybe," she said. "I was thinking pink…"

"I'm not wearing pink," I said. "There are a lot of things I'll do, but wearing pink is not one of them." Ruby and Sapphire giggled. I could picture them making a mental list of the things I would do. 1) Go skydiving, 2) swim with devil rays, 3) kiss guys…

"Purple?" Sharpay asked. "Ooh, no, green!"

"Green seems acceptable," I said. The six of us went off to find some clothings.

The next night was the dance itself, and it was relatively uneventful, unless you count me and Sharpay being crowned king and queen of the freshman class. Not that it was a big surprise or anything. I went home to my house after, and Sharpay went back to hers. I'd been home for about twenty minutes, when rocks started hitting my window. I opened it, and Chuckie was on my lawn. It had to be, like, midnight.

"You can use the door, you know," I called.

"It's locked, come let me in," he said. I went downstairs to let him in.

"And you need to come over to my house at 12:07 am?" I asked. "This had better be important."

"It is," he said, as we walked up to my room. "I don't know what Chad and Sarah are doing, but Chad really needs to get a curfew."

"Tell me about it," I said. I looked out the window into Sarah's room, and immediately looked away. "I think it would be better not to look. So, how are you?"

"Fine," he said. "How are you and Sharpay?"

"You don't care," I said.

"I do," he said. "Seriously."

"Um…we're fine," I said. "I guess. It's so hard to tell with Sharpay. One second she'll be pissed at me, and the next one she just wants to be all cute and snuggly."

"Uh-huh," Chuckie said. "Well, I'm gonna crash on your floor, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, go ahead," I said. "Night."

"Mhm," he said. He didn't move.

"What?" I asked. He pouted. I kissed his forehead, and he laughed. "Good night, Chuckie."

"Yep," he said. "Night." I rolled my eyes and got into bed. The next morning, my parents told me they were going away for the weekend, and Dylan was staying at Becca's house. This is what I said: "Uh-huh". I didn't care. They made me promise to find somewhere supervised to spend the night. I repeated "Uh-huh" and they left. Chad ran over as they left, grinning like an idiot.

"Chad, I don't want to know what you did last night, and honestly could care less," I said. "And if you tell me about it, I will have to hurt you." He continued grinning.

"Do you have any Toaster Strudel?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. He could be such a dork sometimes. I still don't know what they did that night, and I still could honestly care less. I made plans to stay the night at Sharpay's, just because I could. It was unfortunate that she was going to be somewhere exotic for the weekend, so that was out.

"Dude, you can stay at my house," Chuckie said.

"Yeah, I know," I said. "But Chad's staying there and I would really rather not." Chad giggled slightly through his Toaster Strudel. "And now I just refuse."

"Let's just stay here, then," Chuckie said. "My parents probably won't be home until really late anyway. They have to go to some benefit for turkeys or…something…"

"Yeah," I agreed.

Long story short again: My parents never found out / cared. They probably would have cared if they'd ever found out.

On the last day of school, I grinned the whole way through it. We'd all survived freshman year. I flashed my Wildcat Red smile (I still had the braces) at everyone all day. Really. Freshman year was over, and my dad was sending us to basketball camp that summer. Life was great. When the final bell rang, I wasn't the only one to celebrate, although some people I might mention (cough, Sharpay, cough) celebrated a little differently (cough giving out birthday invitations cough).

_Samantha is whining that this chapter isn't long enough. I told her I don't care, but fine, here's the party._

"Troy!" Sharpay accosted me as I left the school.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"My house, next week, birthday party!" she said. "It'll be fun!" she said.

"How old are we?" I asked.

"Uh…fifteen," Sharpay said, before skipping off.

"Are we really? Wow. We're old," I said.

"Yeah, a little," Chuckie said. "C'mon, let's go home."

"No, really, we're old," I said. "That just occurred to me."

"You're old," he corrected. "I'm not."

"I guess it's not that ridiculous for…you know what…with Chad and Sarah," I said. "I lost track of how old we were sometime around the new millennium."

"We were nine then," Chuckie supplied.

"I know," I said. "Looking forward to this summer?"

"Not really," he said. "Isn't your dad sending us all to basketball camp?"

"Yeah," I said. "We'll have lots of fun and get to be life-long friends."

"Grease?" Chuckie asked, uncertainly, and I nodded, flashing that Wildcat Red smile.

"But really," I said. "How does a basketball camp get away with being in the middle of the woods?"

"I don't know," he said, "but it'll be fun."

"You know what's weird?" I asked. Chuckie shook his head no. "My dad is the coach." Chuckie stared at me. The bus stopped and some people got off. When the bus started again, he finally came out of his shock.

"You're fifteen years old, and you just realized that your dad is the coach?" he asked me.

"Well, no, but I just realized it was weird," I said. "I mean, the guys joke about it all the time, but it never really occurred to me. I mean, what if I'm terrible at basketball, and I'm on JV – varsity – whatever because he's the coach?"

"Have you ever lost a game?" Chuckie asked.

"Well, no," I said. "But think about Dylan. I mean, he's terrible. And he made the JV team this year at the middle school. Shouldn't he have been on the C team? He is literally terrible."

"Maybe he had potential," Chuckie said.

"You don't have to defend him, he can't hear you," I said. "He's not even on this bus. But that's not the point. The point is my dad is sending 'us all' to the camp so that 'we' can get good enough to all make Varsity because he knows that I won't play on the Varsity team if all of us don't make it because I actually have principles. You know?"

"Um…yeah," he said. "So 'we all' have to go to this camp to get 'good' at a game we're already awesome at because your dad is a weirdo with no principles?"

"Yeah, that's what I said," I said, laughing. Sharpay's party was the next week, and, true to my word, I showed up. Well, actually, I hadn't said I would show up, but I knew that she'd kill me if I didn't. And I really didn't fancy being dead. So I went. Some of the soon-to-be juniors brought alcohol, for some unknown reason, and I stayed away from it. Drinking seemed like a bad idea. Zeke had dragged Chad to the party, and Chad had dragged Sarah, who had attempted to drag Chuckie, but he had point blank refused.

"You know," Sharpay said, coming up next to me, about halfway through the night. "This stuff is not half bad."

"My God, Sharpay, how many have you had?" I asked. I was a little concerned, and I wasn't even sure what she was drinking.

"I don't know," she said. "They put something in my punch. I think we should do it like this from now on."

"Do what?" I asked.

"Drink," Sharpay said. "At parties. This is so much more fun." I looked around. Almost everyone seemed to be drinking, which still didn't seem like a goo idea to me.

"Where's Ryan?" I asked. Sharpay giggled and pointed to the center of the dance floor, where Ryan was dirty dancing with anything that would come near enough. The particular victim of the song was Kelsi, who really seemed to be enjoying herself, and she should have been, because she and Zeke had broken up the week before, because…well, let's just say I had some serious competition. Well, not that serious. I tapped a passing Zeke's shoulder, and passed Sharpay off on him. He immediately looked concerned and took her away somewhere away from the alcohol. As I continued to watch Ryan and Kelsi, I watched her lean in and kiss him. Instant jealousy pangs shot through me. I didn't stay the night. I called Chuckie when I got home.

"Yeah?" he asked. "It's really late, this had better be important."

"I'm not speaking to Kelsi Nielson ever again," I announced.

"Okay, I'll bite," he said. "Why?"

"Because she kissed my Ryan," I said.

"She did what?" he asked. "And wait a sec, _your_ Ryan? Back up and go slowly, I'm tired."

"Someone brought alcohol to the party. Ryan got wasted and started dancing with anything that moved, and some stuff that doesn't, and Kelsi kissed him," I said.

"So, he won't remember it tomorrow, no harm done," Chuckie said. "Seriously, was that worth calling me?"

"Well, that and your sister and Chad are probably adding a third house to the list of places they've had sex," I said. Chuckie sighed.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Nah, that was pretty much it," I said. "I'm not speaking to Kelsi. Ever, ever again."

"Okay, good luck with that one," he said. "Good night."

"Uh-huh," I said, hanging up my cell phone and exhaling deeply. I was jealous. And I hate being jealous.

**A/N: If anyone was taking bets on who Ryan's first kiss was, it was Kelsi. He doesn't remember, but Troy does. Anyway, uh, sorry for not updating in so long, but I'm back at school now, and I was busy. I actually completely missed a meeting for my theater club on Thursday, which was embarrassing. Uh, I'm not going to bitch to you about the lack of reviews for the last chapter because I've learned that that never works. I don't own anything though, and I'd like some reviews for this chapter, because this chapter is also seriously long. :D**

**Next Chapter: Basketball Camp. In Which we meet Chuckie's future boyfriend, Justin, who is awesome.**

**You know you love me,  
xoxo, Samantha.**

**PS, I also attest that I've never seen Gossip Girl, but don't own that either. Although from what I do know, I can apaologize for the scary similarities between it and this story.  
**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen. Summer 2005. (Basketball Camp.)  
–In Which They Go To Basketball Camp, And We Meet Chuckie's Future Boyfriend, Justin.**

A few weeks after Sharpay's party, we all got shipped off to basketball camp. And by "we all" I mean Me, Chad, Zeke, Jason, Chuckie, Jared, and Michael. The camp was located pretty much in the middle of the woods, and there was, like, an arts and crafts hut. What I mean to say is that the camp hadn't been built to be a basketball camp.

I was standing in the woods somewhere talking to Chad. Chuckie was sitting on a rock nearby. Or maybe it was a log. Whatever it is that you find in the woods. And before you ask the question "New Mexico? Woods? Really?" the answer is "yes". Chad was holding a basketball and listening to what I was saying. I'm pretty sure Chuckie wasn't hearing a word of what I was saying.

"So, how does that sound, Chuck?" I asked. Chuckie jumped and looked up at me. Hypothesis tested, theory proved. He wasn't paying attention.

"What?" he asked.

"Never mind," I said. "Wanna come swimming with us?"

"Sure," he said. He followed Chad and me back to the cabin we were sharing with Zeke, Jason, Jared, Michael, and our counselor, Justin. We all changed into our swimming trunks, and headed out to the lake to swim. (Lake? Really? Yep.)

When we got there, me and Chad immediately jumped in. It was a fine New Mexico day in July, and it was hot, but Chuckie didn't follow us. He sat on the edge of the dock, watching his us have a splash war. Within minutes, both me and Chad swam over to bother him about not being in the lake.

"What's up?" I asked. Something was up, I was sure. I had always been good at realizing when something was up, although I never seemed to be able to recognize what exactly it was.

"Nothing," Chuckie mumbled.

"Seriously, man, what gives?" Chad said.

"Nothing!" Chuckie insisted.

"Whatever, man," Chad said. "Dude, check this out." He swam away on the pretense of showing me something, but I wasn't paying attention.

"Dude, you can tell me," I said.

"It's nothing, Troy," Chuckie said. "Go have fun."

"No, really, tell me," I said.

"It's just…the guys…" Chuckie said, vaguely.

"Did someone say something to you? I'll kick their ass if they did," I said, determinedly.

"Nah," Chuckie said. "They just…the usual."

"Who? Give me names, and I'll make 'em shape up," I declared.

"Not necessary," Chuckie said. "Really. Go have your fun."

"Only if you come too," I insisted.

"Fine!" Chuckie said. "Jeez." He slipped off the dock and into the water, shivering slightly as he entered it, and followed me over to where Chad was inadvertently making a complete fool of himself. He did that a lot. He's Chad. What do you expect?

"Hey," Chad said. "Would _this_ impress Sarah?" Sarah had dumped him a week before, and he was still trying to get her back. Chuckie and I rolled our eyes and pretended to watch him make a fool of himself.

"Yes, Chad," Chuckie said, stifling the urge to giggle as Chad finished whatever it was he was trying to do, because he was not good at it at all.

Later that afternoon, Chuckie and I were sitting in the dining hall, and I still hadn't given up trying to get out of Chuckie who was talking smack about him.

"No one! Just leave it alone," Chuckie said.

"No!" I insisted. "Tell me."

"It's just…Chad…" Chuckie began vaguely.

"Chad?!" I asked, not believing it. I couldn't believe that. I mean, Chad hadn't talked a single piece of smack since I'd told him if he did he could get a new best friend. I would kill him if he started talking smack again "I'm going to get him so hard…" I started to get up from the table, making a fist.

"No!" Chuckie said, grabbing hold of my shirt and pulling me back down to sit on the bench. "It's nothing. It's all in jest. But…they hurt sometimes."

"What hurts?" I asked.

"The jokes," he explained. "They were funny at first, but now it seems like they're overdone, y'know?"

"Yeah," I said. Chad can be that way, I guessed. He had a way of overdoing stuff. Case in point with Sarah. "But, on the bright side…"

"I haven't had to deal with any homophobes yet?" Chuckie asked. "Yeah, I know. That's the thing about staying in the closet. Especially much longer than necessary." He looked pointedly at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Dude, you know I'm not – I can't–" I started trying to articulate.

"Can't or won't, Troy?" Chuckie asked, a little too harshly. "Seriously, it's been three years, why won't you do it?"

"It's…Ryan…won't even talk to me. I don't think I talked to him all last year. Kelsi kissed him, and it makes me hate her. I have everything I should ever want, and I want more. It's insane," I said. "He…I…want him so much. And I can't have him. Sharpay said he's dating her."

"That's bullshit, Troy," Chuckie said. "You and I both know that kid is queerer than a three dollar bill."

"Or so you think," I shot back. "You don't know. It's not like you asked him."

"It's not like he'd tell us, even if he knew!" Chuckie shot back even more forcefully than I had. "He's in denial, Troy. It's not a good place to be."

"Are we on again or off again right now?" I asked, suddenly, after a long silence. We were constantly on and off again.

"Don't care," he said indifferently. "For the first time, I really, honestly, don't care."

"I care," I said.

"No, you don't," he said. "All I ever hear from you is Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. It's so annoying!"

"Then I guess we're off again," I said, standing up and taking my plate to the trash and leaving the dining hall without another word. I fumed all the way back to our cabin, completely blew off Justin, who was sitting on his bunk bed reading a book (presumably the 6th Harry Potter one), and collapsed onto the bed I was using and stared at the ceiling for hours on end. It wasn't a big deal, I knew he'd come back within a couple days, if not that night. And I had Sharpay. I was just…felt bad. For the first time in our relationship, I really fully appreciated what he was doing for me. He put all his feelings for me aside, to help me out with my Ryan problems. It kind of made _me_ out as the terrible person. I heard Justin put his book down and I could feel him staring at me. I didn't say anything. He didn't say anything. He didn't look very old. And he seemed awfully familiar too. I wracked my brains for anywhere I could know him from, but I knew he wasn't from my school, so I drew up blank.

The next time me and Chuckie were in proximity to one another, was that night at evening campfire. It was dark out, so we just pretended we didn't see each other. Or, rather, he pretended I didn't exist. I tried to silently apologize for being mean. But we really both knew I had a point. Anyway, he had to stop ignoring me when we were rearranged by cabin to do some activities. Justin ditched the get-to-know-you activities we were supposed to be doing, as we already knew each other. Instead he settled for going around the circle and saying one thing that no one else knew about us.

To everyone's surprise (except mine, because I was kind of figuring he would), when it came time for Chuckie's turn, he…was an idiot. Bet you can figure out what he said. Yep, it's not that difficult to figure out. And I mean, it's pretty obvious. "I'm gay," he said. Blunt, if I did say so myself, although Chad beat me to saying it out loud. When I came out, I thought to myself, it was going to be much less blunt, and a lot more extravagant. And fabulous. That's right, I said fabulous. The guys were…a little bit shocked, but they honestly could care less, so long as he didn't perv on them in the locker rooms and continued to be awesome at basketball. No prob, right?

When it was my turn, I revealed that I seriously hated the fact that my dad was the coach and that meant that I got on the team anyway, which a lot of people knew, or thought they knew, but I'd never actually said it. I was still dating Sharpay, and there was no way I was gonna come out of the closet without pulling Ryan out with me. That was for sure. I like to think that Sharpay and I were together for aesthetic purpose only by this point, but we really weren't. I mean, we didn't really do anything ever, but the point was that we didn't really even like each other like _that_. So I hadn't kissed her since my birthday. So what? That didn't make her not my girlfriend.

The campfire ended at long, long last, and Justin took us back to our cabin. Despite much annoyance, that we were fifteen (or fourteen in Chuckie's case) and did not need escorting, or a counselor with us in our cabin, it was the rules. Justin honestly could not be that much older than us, maybe eighteen at the very oldest, and thoroughly understood our reasoning. He was a cool counselor, though, and let us do basically anything they wanted to do so long as it wasn't going to get us (or him) in trouble.

I pretended to sleep much of that night. I could tell Chuckie was glaring at me, or at least staring at me. I knew he was angry, but I couldn't help it. Really. I mean, I probably could have helped it, but I just couldn't help it. Which makes total sense. Not. When I eventually fell asleep, my dreams centered on that same stupid game show type one, where Regis Philbin asks me which door I want to pick, 1, 2, or 3, and I always picked door number two, but I never actually learned what was behind the doors. I awoke (for some reason, a very light sleeper in a cabin in the middle of the woods) to the sound of Chuckie getting up at, like, 5am, and disappearing into the bathroom. When he came back, he just watched the sunrise. I didn't feel like going back to sleep, because the stupid dream was annoying me.

Later that morning, after breakfast, I talked to the guys about the little…thing…that had happened at the campfire. Chuckie sat on the porch to the arts and crafts building, talking to Justin. We now bring you that conversation, because…we can. Chuckie gave us a transcript of it and the permission to use it here. And we are also referring to ourselves in the plural, even though we are quite singular.

"Why so glum?" Justin asked. Chuckie shrugged. "He's supposed to be with you, isn't he?" Chuckie turned his head very quickly to look at Justin.

"What?" Chuckie asked, knowing he must not have heard right.

"Troy. He's supposed to be with you," Justin said. "But you broke up last night around dinner. Right?" Chuckie nodded.

"How'd you know?" he asked.

"We can tell," Justin said, smiling. Chuckie gasped softly.

"Oh, so you are too?" he asked. Justin nodded. "What did your team think?"

"Nothing," Justin said.

"Nothing at all?" Chuckie asked. "I always thought it was something jocks didn't like."

"They didn't like it, but my high school has an anti-anti-gay policy, so there was nothing they could do," Justin explained.

"Damn," Chuckie said. "Wish I went to your school."

"It seems like your team doesn't care at all," Justin said, gesturing to me and the guys.

"Troy's trying to gloss it over," Chuckie said.

"I take it he's not out yet," Justin said. Chuckie sighed.

"We're not even really together. He has this girlfriend, and he's in love with her brother," Chuckie explained.

"How long's it been?" Justin asked.

"Three years since we first got together," Chuckie said, sadly.

"And no one knows?" Justin asked. "Damn, you gotta really like someone to do that for them."

"Yeah, well, that's the problem I'm having," Chuckie said. "It's been like four years since I started crushing on him, and he doesn't even like me like that, and we…just…whatever, you know?" Justin didn't know, but he nodded anyway. "It's…complicated. And way too difficult."

"When I was your age, not too long ago, I had a similar problem," Justin said. "Not quite the same, but similar. I won't go so far as to call it more complicated, but it's getting there."

"What was it?" Chuckie asked, intrigued. "I mean, I don't mean to pry, but…"

"No, it's fine," Justin said. "The captain of my team, Josh, he was…amazing."

"And straight," Chuckie guessed the ending.

"Yeah," Justin said with a sigh, looking wistful.

"How'd you get over that?" Chuckie said.

"I didn't," Justin said. "Til he got suspended for remarks against some of the gays in the theatre department. Sort of a turn off."

"Well, Troy isn't likely to say any disparaging remarks against the theatre department," Chuckie said. "His girlfriend and her brother pretty much own it. She's a bitch, too. It really says something about Troy that he's willing to put up with her to get close to Ryan. Mind you, it's not working, but…" Chuckie let out a sigh. "I should never have kissed him."

"I'm not sure who to feel worse for," Justin joked. Chuckie frowned at him. "Well, tell me about this boy he's crushing on."

"Well, his name is Ryan," Chuckie said. "He's got blond hair and these amazing blue eyes, and a sister that wants to kill…everybody. He wears pink all the time, and these stupid hats that make him look his age, because he looks like he's eight without them on. We all used to be really good friends up until about two years ago, when they all got in some big fight. I know it's wrong not to like him, but I can't help it."

"Well, Troy can't help it if he likes Ryan either," Justin said. "And you can't help that you like Troy."

"Sure," Chuckie said. "I'm open to advice, here."

"I don't know," Justin said. "I really don't have much experience in the area."

"Got a boyfriend?" Chuckie asked.

"Nope," Justin said. "Not yet. I might have a date for homecoming if I work hard."

"Homecoming?" Chuckie asked. "How old are you?"

"Almost seventeen," Justin said, sheepishly.

"Really? When's your birthday?" Chuckie asked.

"September 19th," Justin said. Chuckie stared, and his jaw dropped.

"You're kidding," he said. "That's my birthday."

"Hey! High five!" Justin said. Chuckie and Justin slapped five, and then, not feeling that was enough, proceeded to do the camp handshake. "Sweet." Both boys sat down again, feeling thoroughly gayed out, and gazed over at me and the guys, who were still talking.

"So where do you go to school?" Chuckie asked Justin.

"South High," Justin said. Chuckie stuck out his tongue and made fake retching noises. Justin laughed.

"We're from East," Chuckie said.

"Well, a Tiger and a bunch of Wildcats," Justin said. "Who would've thought?"

"Not me," Chuckie said. "I thought you had to be older to be a counselor here."

"Well, I'm going to be a senior this year," Justin said. "Hey, when I was younger, my parents almost sent me to East."

"Really?" Chuckie asked. "That's insane. My parents wanted to send me to South."

"That is insane," Justin agreed.

"Yeah," Chuckie said. "So, what's on the agenda for today?"

"Well, we actually have the court in ten minutes, so we should probably get going," Justin said, standing up. Chuckie followed suit and they went to collect the rest of us. Conversation ended. Rights reserved to Charles Patrick Brown, 2005. Heehee, he made me do that. Anyway, going on…

Arriving at the court, Justin peered at his clipboard to see what the teams would be.

"It seems you'll be picking your own teams. The captains are Troy and Chad," Justin said. We went to opposite sides of the court, glaring fake daggers at each other, both of us threatening to burst out laughing at any second. "Troy, you'll pick first."

"Chuckie," I said, automatically. Sure, we were fighting, but he's awesome at basketball, and he was still my best friend.

"Jason," Chad said, and Jason went to join Chad.

"Zeke."

"Jared."

"Justin."

"Michael." Zeke and Justin came to join me and Chuckie, while Jared and Michael joined Chad and Jason. Justin looked moderately surprised that he had been picked to play, but then again, that made even amounts on each team, even if it did give my team an unfair advantage, not that we needed it. My team always wins.

Some of the guys didn't have their heads in the game, so we would constantly have to shout "Get'cha Head in the Game!" at them. There was no singing involved in this particular basketball game. In short, to no one's surprise, my team won the game spectacularly. I still hadn't lost a game since the fifth grade, and everyone knew it. See, I'm not terrible at basketball. I win stuff occasionally (Read: I'm Troy Bolton and that's why.).

While eating a lunch of sandwiches and milk (which is the proper diet for basketball players), the conversation turned to the team that year.

"Well," Chad said, "we're all hoping to make varsity, but it's a tall order for a sophomore to make varsity, you know?" Justin nodded, knowingly. "And everyone knows Troy's a shoo-in."

"Come on, he's not that good," Justin said. I scowled at him.

"Sure he is," Chuckie said. "He never loses. You could put him against the Lakers, and he'd still win."

"Okay, I'm not that good," I said. "But that's not the reason everyone knows I'll make varsity. My dad's the coach."

"Oh, right," Justin said. "That's…sorry."

"Yeah," Chad said. "If that's not an unfair advantage, I don't know what is."

"You're just jealous of my mad skillz, yo," I joked.

"Whatevs," Chad said.

"Whatevs?" I asked.

"Yeah," Chad said. "Like 'whatever' but cooler. Whatevs."

"Whatevs," I said, sighing over dramatically like Sharpay. "Soon you'll be saying kewlness with a k and a w."

"Okay, both great points," Justin mediated. "But really irrelevant. Shall we focus on the point at hand?"

"And what is the point at hand?" Chad asked.

"I don't remember," Justin said. "I don't think there was one."

"You're way too young to be a counselor," Zeke said, looking Justin up and down.

"I'm going to be a senior this year!" Justin said.

"You're still only sixteen," Chuckie teased.

"Only a year older than us?" Chad said. "No way."

"Way," Justin said.

"Coolio," I said. "So you want to help us TP the camp?"

"I'd get in trouble," Justin said.

"Hmm," I said, stroking an invisible beard as I contemplated this point. "Don't get caught."

"I like that plan," Jason said, pointing at me to illustrate his point.

"It's a good plan," Michael said. So it was a date. We were going to TP the camp before it was over. It was two nights later by the time we had collected enough toilet paper to TP the camp.

"We're really gonna TP the camp, aren't we?" Justin asked, staring at all the toilet paper stacked in our cabin.

"Yeah," I said. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Cuz we're gonna get in trouble," Justin said.

"Don't get caught," I advised. "Now. We're gonna be uber-stealthy. I checked the weather, and it's not supposed to rain, because we all know that TP and rain don't mix." Everyone nodded knowingly. "So, we're gonna be uber-stealthy. I already said that. Um…"

"What team?" Chad asked.

"Wildcats!" we chorused.

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Yeah!" Chad shouted. The "Get'cha Head in the Game" part hadn't been added to the cheer yet. I don't know why. Justin stared at us with a face that quite clearly read "Psh. East" and he rolled his eyes.

"If you don't like it, make up your own," I said. "Let's go." It took almost two hours for the eight of us to TP the whole camp. While we were walking back to our cabin, to regroup, I found Chuckie. Sure it was dark, but let's pretend that's another of my super powers. "Chucks–"

"I don't want to hear it," Chuckie replied.

"I'm trying to apologize over here," I said.

"And I don't want to hear it," he hissed. "Seriously. You think I don't have anything better to do than come crawling back to you all the time? Really. Get a life."

"Well, that's pretty much what I was thinking, considering that's what you've been doing for the last three years," I said. "I wouldn't figure that meeting the only other gay guy within a ten mile radius would really change your opinion that much."

"This has nothing to do with Justin," Chuckie said. "This has to do with you and your stupidity and lack of…respect."

"Respect?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "For me and my feelings."

"Bullshit," I said. "Have I ever once made you do something you didn't want to do?"

"That's not the point," he said. "You're leaving this opportunity open to me which is never going to end well, and it's…too much. It's not good, and it's bad, and all that."

"You're not making any sense at all," I said. "But whatever. I mean, really. Whatever." I sped up to keep walking towards the cabin. It was almost 2:30 in the morning, and the woods were slightly creepy.

"Hey, come back," he said. "I'm mad at you, but I'm still afraid of the dark." I grinned and waited for him to catch up with me. "Jeez. Leave a guy alone in the middle of the woods at 2:30 in the morning."

"It's 2:24." I said.

"Same difference," he said.

Later that day, after we'd slept, it was time for the camp tournament finals. We had to play the Cabin Number 6, the cabin notoriously inhabited by most of West's soon-to-be-sophomore team. Their captain, whose name I seem to remember as being Big A, was a complete jerk. No, I'm not kidding. The A might have stood for Andrew, I don't really know. Why do jocks have dumbass nicknames like that? I'll never figure it out… It was a pretty close game, but Zeke sunk the game winning basket, and we won, just cuz we're awesome like that.

"That was, like, the best awesomeness ever," Chuckie said to me, as we walked off the court.

"I know, right?" I said.

"Hey!" Big A called after us. "Hey, Bolton, does your boyfriend give good head?" It actually crossed my mind to say "Why, yes, he does," but I didn't. I just rolled my eyes and ignored him. "Hey, I'm talking to you."

"Oh, what a coincidence, I'm ignoring you," I replied. "C'mon, Chucks, let's go." We left the area to go to lunch.

"Sharpay much?" he asked.

"Hey, I learned from the best," I said, flashing that Wildcat red grin.

"You almost said yes, didn't you?" Chuckie asked, also grinning.

"Yes, actually, I did," I said, "but you're not my boyfriend."

"True, true," he replied. There was a silence as we got our food and sat down.

"Big A's a jerk," I said.

"Duh," Chuckie said. "I think we all know that. Probably even he knows it."

"Yeah," I said. There was not much else to say, until Justin sat down across from us.

"Hey Jus," Chuckie said.

"Hey," Justin said. "Sorry about what that guy said to you guys."

"It wasn't your fault," I said. "And it's okay. We actually kind of get that a lot. There's this douche named Ricky at our school and he does it too."

"I hate him," Chuckie said. "I mean, who has to repeat freshman year?"

"He did," I said. Chuckie and Justin both smiled, and then Chad and Zeke sat down at our table.

"Dude, your sister will not stop calling me," Chad said, setting his cell phone down in the center of the table. It rang just then, as if to prove some sort of point.

"Didn't you want her to call you?" I asked.

"That was, like, three days ago, Troy, stick with the program," Chad said, silencing the phone.

"So, you're going back out?" I asked.

"Yeah," Chad said. "And she won't stop calling me."

"Well, she's your girlfriend," Chuckie said. "And it's not really my problem."

"She's so annoying," Chad said. The phone rang again, and he silenced it again.

"If you'd answer it, that might help," Justin advised.

"Thanks," Chad said, rolling his eyes.

"She can't be more annoying than Rachel," Zeke said, rolling his own eyes. "I'm actually glad I'm here this week."

"I thought you guys broke up last year," I said.

"They got back together," Chad said. "As if we didn't have enough problems, what with you and Sharpay being on the ins again…"

"What's wrong with Sharpay?" I asked. Immediately, I knew this was the wrong thing to say.

"Do you hear yourself?" Chad asked. "You just asked the question 'what's wrong with Sharpay?'."

"What isn't wrong with Sharpay is an easier question," Chuckie said.

"Hey, I think she's cool," Zeke said.

"Yes, because we all know you've had a crush on her since you met her," Chad said. "She is never gonna date you."

"I know that!" Zeke said. "She's still cool."

"She's not so bad recently," Chuckie said. "As opposed to before."

"I think getting out and seeing other people did her well," I said. "And I mean, I know I don't want to marry her or anything, but I really don't see another way out of it. And she's still my friend."

"Okay, okay," Chad said. "If you had to choose one of us to date Sharpay, which would it be?"

"Zeke," I said automatically. "Because you and her are just terrible, her and Jared was just weird, Jason and her is too creepy to think about, and don't even get me started on Michael. So Zeke."

"Thank you," Zeke said.

"Anytime," I said.

**A/N: Um. What can I say? Ah, long chapter! Seems to be all I can write these days. Man, what kind of nickname is "Big A"? What a dork. Sure beats his real name. Anyway, uh, this chapter was originally written as a completely different story in Chuckie's point of view, which is why the beginning is so weird, and there's that awkward conversation in the middle. Just thought I'd point that out. I don't own anything, at all. I could make a list, but making a list of the things I do own is shorter: Nothing. Except **_**maybe**_** the characters I made up. I don't know. Anyway, thanks for reading, and for the awesome reviews on the last chapter, and on this whole story in general. Please keep it up! Me likey reviews, they make me write. Well, that and my mom. Anyway, review please?**

**Samantha.**

**PS: Next Chapter…is Chapter 20 and there is some sort of basketball game played. That's all I know so far.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty The School Year 2005-2006. (Sophomore Year and part of Junior Year.)  
-In Which Basketball Is Played, Breakups Are Facilitated, and Vacations Are Taken.**

"Okay, so explain this to me again," I said. "I did _what_?"

"Starting Varsity," my dad said, throwing me about twenty jerseys. "Congratulations."

"Dad, can I ask you something?" I asked. "I mean, do I just get the good spots on the team because you're the coach, or because I'm awesome?"

"You're awesome," my dad said. "Nepotism never worked in sports."

"And Dylan?" I asked.

"He's alright," Dad said. "Not great, but not bad."

"I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear that," I said.

I was the first sophomore ever to make starting varsity, and it just fits, right? I am that awesome at the game. That was when I stopped worrying. I was awesome. Coach said so.

One day, shortly after sports try-outs, the team and I were in the gym, as were the cheerleaders, minus their captain, who, as everyone knows, was Sharpay. Approximately half an hour after practice started, she ran into the gym, putting her long blonde hair up into a ponytail as she ran.

"Sorry, I'm late," she announced. "We ran over in rehearsal, and Ms. Darbus had to talk to me and Ryan about being the co-presidents of the club starting next semester."

"Well, Sharpay," another cheerleader, Rachel, said, "seems like you've got a little pickle."

"What do you mean?" Sharpay asked. "It won't happen again, I swear."

"Sharpay, you know the rules," the coach said. "Laps, ten, right now."

"Coach Shea, that's not fair, I told you I might be late," Sharpay said.

"We would make anyone else run," the coach said. "We can't show you any special treatment, just because you're the captain."

"But I told you!" Sharpay insisted. "I said I might be late."

"God, Sharpay, just run the laps," Rachel said, rolling her eyes.

"No," Sharpay said. "This is unfair!" By this point our basketball practice had halted completely, and every person was watching the argument as it got heated.

"It is the rules," Erica said.

"Yeah," Ruby and Sapphire agreed, fairly.

"And everyone has to obey the rules," Mallory said. "Just because you're the captain, doesn't mean you get to break them. You said so yourself."

"I…This is completely unfair!" Sharpay said. "You know what? I quit!" She threw her pom-poms directly at Coach Shea and stormed out of the gym.

"Ooh, what a tragedy," Rachel said, sarcastically. "Oh, well, girls, back in formation." All the girls on the cheerleading team did what their new captain told them to do. I looked around at the team. None of them seemed to care either. Well, I did. (And probably Zeke did too, but he didn't want to risk the Varsity roster spot he was barely hanging on to). I dropped the basketball I was holding and breezed out of the gym past all the cheerleaders fawning over me, as they always did when I passed. I got into the hall just in time to see Sharpay's hair disappear into a room and hear the door slam. I quickly jogged down the hall towards the room. When I got there, I opened the door and walked inside.

"What do you want?" Sharpay asked.

"I just wanted to make sure you're all right," I said. The room in question was the drama lounge, and I sat down next to Sharpay on a couch. "But you're not, are you?"

"What do you think?" she asked, angry somewhere under her tears. I put my arm around my girlfriend.

"Shar, I know how you feel," I said.

"Really?" she asked, sarcastically. "How could you possibly?"

"I know what it's like to not have the one thing you really love because society doesn't like it," I said.

"Society?" Sharpay said. "Try the entire world. None of the girls have ever wanted me on the team. Just because I'm better than them. Besides, what do you know? The only thing you love is Basketball."

"That's not true," I said.

"Oh yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, defensively. "You know, I left practice to come in here to cheer you up, but if you don't want it, then I'll just leave."

"No, stay," Sharpay said. "Please." I hadn't even made a move to get off the couch, because I'd known what she was going to say. I just hugged her close trying to make it all go away. There was a long and comfortable silence. "Troy?"

"Yes, Sharpay?" I asked.

"What do you mean, you can't have the one thing you really love because society doesn't like it?" she asked. I froze, although she didn't seem to notice. Seriously busted.

"Well, I…uh…well, I kind of, um…" I began, but just then the door to the lounge opened, and Ryan walked in. "Ryan!" I exclaimed.

"Hi guys," Ryan said. "Um…I can – What's wrong?"

"I quit," Sharpay said.

"The drama club?" Ryan asked.

"Cheerleading," I explained, as Sharpay relapsed into even more tears.

"Oh my God, Shar," Ryan said, taking a seat on the other side of her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yeah," Sharpay said, looking at him. "Go to the gym, and swear to all those biatches, that on pain of Death by Sharpay, they will not use the choreography you made up for us this year."

"Yes, ma'am," Ryan said, mock-saluting her, before getting up and leaving the room.

"Troy?" Sharpay began again.

"Yes, Sharpay," I said.

"I don't think it's appropriate that we go out anymore," Sharpay said.

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Well, you know how people expect us to be together?" Sharpay said. I nodded. "Because I'm, well, me, and you're you?" I nodded again. "We're just not us any more."

"Sharpay, quit the crazy talk," I said. "We're still us. You're still the princess of the drama department, and I'm next in line for basketball captain. How much more perfect can we get?"

"Why are you even making this stuff up?" Sharpay asked. "You've never wanted to go out with me, ever."

"Well, maybe I've finally found out what a great person you are," I said, smiling at her. She smiled back, and I wiped a few stray tears off her face, before lifting her chin to kiss her softly.

"Thanks, Troy," Sharpay said. "You can always make me feel better. So, pizza tonight?"

"Bet on it," I said, grinning. And so went the tale of how Sharpay quit cheerleading. The cheerleaders did terrible that year. They were without a real captain and a real choreographer for the first time in, like, ever. They were also a person short, so they held tryouts again.

"They cut my team," Sarah announced, very annoyed at lunch one day, plopping into the chair between Chad and Chuckie.

"Um…explain," I said.

"The girls' basketball team," she said. "They cut it. Not enough support for the sport or something. So now if I want to do a winter sport, I can choose swimming or cheerleading. And I'd rather die."

"What's wrong with swimming?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "It's all the way over at the Y, and it's a pain in the butt. And there is no way I am getting into a cheerleading uniform screaming go team go."

"They're having tryouts," I pointed out, "to fill Sharpay's vacancy."

"I'm sure they have someone much more qualified than me," Sarah said. "I was the one who was evil to them in middle school."

"Yeah, well, forgive and forget," Chad said. "C'mon, you would be a good cheerleader."

"Over my dead body," Sarah said. Two days later, she showed up to the tryouts, and made the team. We're still not exactly sure how Chad managed to convince her, but she was pretty good. The cheerleaders still bombed the championships, because they sucked with no choreographer, but that was fine by me. Our basketball championships also went badly. Actually, we didn't make it to the championships. We were playing an elimination game against South, and we lost. But not because we're terrible. I had the ball in my hand, and Justin knocked it out of my hand to Josh, and they scored the game winning basket at the last second, just because games that don't end with last-second game-winning baskets are boring. Like whenever we play Angleton. We always slaughter them. So not the point. Justin came up to me after the game.

"Hey, Troy, I'm sorry about that," he began.

"Dude," I said. "It's fine. It's the point of the game, actually. Course, you're the first team to beat me since the fifth grade, props on that, but no harm done."

"Okay," Justin said. "Thanks, man."

"Yeah, sure," I said. "It's just a game. I don't hold basketball grudges. Now, screw me over in real life, and you would get some serious wrath."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, laughing. "You know where Chuckie got to?" I pointed across the gym, where Chuckie and Sarah were talking to their parents. "Awesome, thanks." He walked over there, and I turned to Chad, who was staring at me incredulously.

"What?" I asked.

"That guy just owned you," Chad said. "He might be the only guy on the planet better at basketball than you."

"No he's not," I said. "I let him win."

"Sure you did," Chad said. "And if that's true, you're gonna get your ass kicked by your dad later."

"Oh, right," I said. "In that case, they cheated!" Chad rolled his eyes and walked away, and my dad walked over.

"Son," he began.

"Look, Dad, I know you're upset about us losing, but–" I began.

"You did your best. And that's what counts," my dad said. It was an odd side of him I'd rarely seen before.

"Well," I said. "Thanks."

"And the important thing is that you are proud of yourself," he said. "South's a tough team."

"We'll get em next year," I said, determinedly. And we all know how that turned out.

"Hey," Sarah announced to me as my dad left to talk to South's coach.bn

"Uh…what?" I asked.

"Good game," she said, holding out her hand.

"Uh…okay?" I asked. I was kind of confused, but shook it anyway. She pulled me into a hug to whisper in my ear.

"The next time you want to do something in secret with my brother, try making sure wherever you're doing it is empty," she whispered. I flushed a bright red color. "See ya." She walked away.

"Well, that's embarrassing," I remarked. Chuckie and Justin came back over to me. "Hey. We got found out by your sister."

"Ah, well," he said. "And she kind of already knew."

"Okay," I said. "There is a rule that says when you tell people, you're supposed to tell me."

"Yeah, whatever," Chuckie said. "Justin and I are going for pizza, you wanna come?"

"Sure," I said. "Kind of like 'congrats Justin on beating me' pizza?"

"Yeah, kinda," Justin said.

"Awesome," I said. "I'll just call Sharpay and tell her I'm gonna be late…"

My life was going well for a while after that. West smothered South in the final of the championships. I laughed, because it was funny, and if we'd've had to have played West instead of South, we probably would have slaughtered them. And everything in the world was fine until Prom.

"You're going to the Prom with whom?" I asked.

"Well, I figured since we're sophomores, and we couldn't go together, we could go with other people together," Sharpay said. "If that makes sense."

"It makes no sense," I said. "So who are you going with?"

"There's the guy named Brian," Sharpay said, "and he's a junior. He said he'll take me, and his girlfriend will take you. If you want to go."

"He's just trying to get into your pants," I said.

"I know that," Sharpay said. "Do you think I'm going to let him in there?"

"No," I said. "The only person allowed in there is me." Sharpay sent me a look. "Okay and you." Sharpay continued the look. "Okay, not me, just you."

"Better," Sharpay said, smiling. "So, Prom?"

"I don't think so, Shar," I said. "It just seems wrong."

"What, we went last year," Sharpay said.

"No, you went last year, I had to babysit my brother," I said. "We went to Semi Formal last year."

"I offered to stay home with you," Sharpay said.

"That's true," I said. "Even though you didn't want to. Okay, I'll go."

"So you're taking her to Prom," Chuckie said to me the day of the Prom itself.

"So?" I asked.

"Is tonight the night?" he asked.

"We had our night," I said. "If you remember all the way back to October."

"Yeah," he said, nostalgically. "What a way to celebrate making Varsity." He sighed as if remembering that night. It was a good night. Well, afternoon. "But I meant you and Sharpay, dingbat. It's Prom."

"No! What is the matter with you?" I asked. "I don't cheat!"

"No, I know," Chuckie said. "But you've been dating since kindergarten and you haven't sealed the deal."

"Who says seal the deal?" I asked. He laughed.

"I'm just saying it's okay with me," he said.

"Well, it's not okay with me," I said. "She's a girl."

"Yes, but it's your girl_friend_," he said. "Just do it."

"How about not?" I suggested.

The Prom itself went well, and I rescued Sharpay from the creepiness of Brian and his girlfriend Katie, and then took Sharpay home to her house afterwards. I was sixteen and proudly boasting a new license. She explained that her parents weren't home, so it was just her and Ryan, if I wanted to stay. I called my mommy to ask permission. Because my parents are crazy, but you knew that. Dylan answered the phone when I called.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" I asked.

"I'm in the seventh grade," he protested.

"Yeah, whatever," I said. "When I was in the seventh grade I was already climbing out my window. Can I talk to mom?"

"Yeah, sure whatever," Dylan said, handing the phone to mom. Mom said it was okay for me to stay so long as I remembered the "rules".

"What are the rules?" Sharpay asked.

"They're long, complicated, and quite frankly, they'd bore you, because we aren't even thinking of breaking them," I said. "Aren't you tired?"

"A little," Sharpay said. "My room's upstairs…"

"Shar, I've been here, like, a billion times, and I've spent at least ten nights in your room," I began. "And I just got what you meant." Sharpay nodded, and we started ascending the stairs, only to meet a pajama-clad, umbrella-wielding Ryan at the top of them.

"Ryan, chill out," Sharpay said. "It's just us."

"Well, you can never be too careful when you're home alone," Ryan said.

"You guys have, like, a billion maids and crap here," I said. "Why do you always say you're 'home alone'?"

"They aren't overnight, Troy," Sharpay said. "Duh."

"Except the maid with the fire extinguisher," Ryan said. "And the night patrolman."

"And you're worried because…?" I prompted.

"They can't be everywhere at once," Ryan said, retreating into his own bedroom with his umbrella.

"Night, Ryan," I called after him.

"Night, guys," Ryan replied before slamming his door shut.

"He's just sad cuz he doesn't have a girlfriend anywhere as cute as you," Sharpay said. I laughed, knowing (well, more, hoping) that someday Ryan would have a girlfriend (well, technically, a boyfriend) exactly as cute as me.

When we woke up the next morning, it was to the smell of bacon and eggs.

"Mmm, Ryan's making breakfast," Sharpay said, smelling the air, before snuggling back into me.

"And how can you tell?" I asked.

"Because it smells like breakfast," Sharpay said, sleepily.

"How do you know it's Ryan?" I asked.

"Because who else would be up this early making bacon and eggs for me?" Sharpay asked.

"The chef?" I asked.

"Shut up, Troy, it's Ryan," she said. "Go and look if you want. I'll be right here." I didn't opt for getting up, but instead busied myself with snuggling back into the blankets. About three minutes later by my figuring, Sharpay sat straight up in bed.

"What?" I asked.

"We can't go out any more," she announced.

"And you tell me this when we're asleep in the same bed?" I asked. "God, Sharpay, work on your timing."

"You don't want to go out with me," Sharpay said. "You don't."

"I don't?" I asked. "That's news to me."

"No, you've got a crush on Ryan," Sharpay said. My eyes got really huge in fear, and I suddenly woke up from my dream to sit up straight in bed. It was eight o'clock in the morning, and Sharpay was still asleep.

"I have got to stop dreaming realistically," I said to myself.

"And you have to stop waking me up when I'm asleep," Sharpay said. "Geez."

"Sorry, honey," I said. I kept having various variations on that same dream. And it was only getting worse the longer I kept dating her. "Shar, are you awake?"

"Well, if you keep talking, I guess so," Sharpay said, opening her eyes to stare at me.

"Shar, I don't think I can date you any more," I said.

"Why?" Sharpay said.

"Please, don't take this the wrong way," I said, "but I'm not exactly sure. I think the Gods are telling me so."

"Well, that has got to be the dumbest reason I've ever heard for breaking up with someone," Sharpay said, rolling over to face away from me.

"Shar, I'm not doing this to make you angry," I said. "I really like you. Sort of. But I keep having these dreams, where you say you have to break up with me."

"So you think we should break up, because you're insane, and have weird-ass dreams?" Sharpay asked, rolling back over to look at me. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," Sharpay said.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes, Troy," she said. "Now, either let me sleep, or get me some breakfast."

"Shar?" I asked.

"What?!" Sharpay responded.

"We're still friends, right?" I asked.

"Troy, we will always be friends," Sharpay said. "And there ain't nothing you can do about that, cowboy."

"Good," I said. "Cuz I wouldn't give our friendship up for anything."

"Me either," Sharpay said, grinning. "Friends forever."

"Forever and ever," I said.

"Now let me sleep, or 'forever and ever' is gonna end real soon," Sharpay said.

"Okay," I said, lying back down beside her. "Night again, Shar."

"Let me sleep!" Sharpay growled. And then she said something else. "Or go get me bacon and eggs. I can smell Ryan making them." I chuckled for the sake of the conversation, got out of bed and wandered around into the bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I breathed a sigh of relief that I'd actually done it, but couldn't help wondering _Which part did I dream?_ Both Chad and Chuckie would have been sad to find out that that night hadn't been the night. In fact, there would never be a "night" for me and Sharpay. Well, let's not rule out _never_, but not in my life as of yet. There's always the possibility I'll get drunk and mistake her for Ryan. And that was the end one of the longest eras in my life. The Sharpay era. It was over. And I was actually kind of sad. But at the same time kind of happy.

Before I knew it, school was over and it was summer again. My mom informed me we'd be going on vacation that summer. I thought that was exciting until I found out who "we" was. "We" are going on vacation meant, Mom, Dad, Dylan, me, Mr. Brown, Mrs. Brown, Chuckie, and Sarah. Party, right? When Chad found out we where we were going (Florida, be jealous) he begged to go. And he was so insistent that they actually let him. I, for one, was astonished.

"Florida 06 here we come!" Chad announced walking into my bedroom, where I was packing my suitcase. I looked up at him and had to laugh. He was wearing ridiculous sunglasses, even though it was practically raining outside.

"Nice shades," I said, laughing. "Stylin."

"Really?" he asked.

"No. You look like an idiot," I said. "What's up?"

"I'm excited for Floridia!" Chad said. (Spelling mistake intentional.) "I've never been."

"Me neither," I said. "But I don't think anyone could be more excited than Dylan." On cue, Dylan entered my room. He was wearing a shirt proudly proclaiming "Disney Fun Seeker" and carrying a backpack chock full of Florida Guide books.

"Hey!" he announced. "I am so excited!" He ran back out of my room and down the stairs. Chad rolled his eyes.

"Twelve year olds," he said.

"So before we can leave, I'm supposed to tell you that both my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Brown would appreciate it if you and Sarah could…you know…stop having sex for this trip. And Chuckie and I would really appreciate it too, cuz we're sharing your room," I said. Chad looked like I'd hit him in the head with a frying pan, which, by the way, is something I've always wanted to do. Not to Chad, per se, but someone.

"Stop…having…sex…?" he asked, like he honestly couldn't comprehend the words coming out of my mouth.

"Yeah," I said. "For the trip, or I'll tell Chuckie him and his boyfriend can do that in the room too."

"He doesn't even have a boyfriend," Chad said. "Does he?"

"How would you know?" I asked. Chad looked stumped. "So no sex." I clapped him on the back. "Let's go." We got out to the cars, and we all squabbled about who was taking what car to the airport, but we all eventually got there and on a plane to Florida! Boo-yah.

"Hey, Troy," Chad asked me as we were flying.

"No, you and Sarah may not join the mile high club," I said. Chad scowled and went to the bathroom by himself. Chuckie, who was sitting behind us with Sarah, leaned forward to whisper to me.

"Not a bad idea, you know," he said.

"Yeah, I know, I was just thinking it," I said, grinning. Sarah made an outraged noise, and I smirked. Have I ever mentioned I hate long plane rides? Anyway, where was I? Oh right, FLA06.

"Does anyone remember the last time we had summer fun without Sharpay?" I asked.

"Basketball camp?" Chad supplied.

"No!" Chuckie and I said at the same time.

"Okay, sorry I brought it u– this is a nice hotel," Chad said.

"It's okay," I said. "I like the Contemporary Resort, myself."

"Dude, this is Caribbean Beach!" Dylan announced, also catching sight of the resort we were pulling up to. "Sweet!"

"It's pretty awesome," Sarah agreed.

"Okay, kids, this is how it works," my dad started to explain. "On the condition that you be good, the four of you have your own room."

"We'll be good," I said. Irony, considering what had already happened that day. :P

"And what about me?" Dylan asked.

"I'll get to you in a second," Dad said. "Now, on the condition that you stick together, you don't have to hang around us in the park."

"We can go wherever we want?" Chuckie asked. "That's pretty much awesome."

"Yes," my dad said. "So long as you are back to the hotel by midnight every night, you can go wherever you want." Throughout this entire speech, Dylan's mouth and eyes kept getting wider and wider. "Tonight we're all going to Magic Kingdom to see the parade and light show, but other than that, you're on your own. You can choose to stay with us, but…"

"That's…okay," Sarah said. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Okay. If you fail to get back before midnight, these privileges will be taken away. And of course, none of this applies on days when we take excursions to other parts of Florida," my dad concluded. "Any questions?"

"Uh…what if we have a really good reason not to be back before midnight?" I asked. "Like…the bus broke down on the side of the road, or…a ride blew up while we were on it."

"If you can prove it, it's a good excuse," my dad said. "Now, the hotel awaits." We piled out of the van, and Dad started talking to Dylan about his list of responsibilities. I don't know if we just got rich all of a sudden, but it was a nice hotel.

"After we get unpacked, we challenge you to a game of beach volleyball," Sarah said, seeing the court as we walked past. We got a room, which had two large beds, which I found fishy, given that my dad had booked the room, but I guess he trusted us. Stupid. Never trust four 16 year olds (well, two 16 and two 15) alone. That was dumb. Really. Me and Chad won the game of beach volleyball, which was really stupid to challenge us to in the first place. That night at Magic Kingdom was awesome. We saw a parade and Dylan got to meet Tigger, and I had this really good ice cream thing… It was a good night.

"Okay, so the rules were we had to be back at the hotel by midnight," Chad said. "Did he say anything about bedtime?"

"Uh…no," I said. "Why, what do you want to do?"

"I think there's an arcade downstairs. They probably have skeeball," he said. I grinned.

"Skeeball anyone?" I asked.

"Over my dead body," Chuckie said. "I hate that game with a friggen passion. I think I'll start making that list of everything I want to do between now and when we go home. Sure enough, when Chad and I stumbled back up to our room at almost 2am, he'd made a list over six sides of paper of all the things he wanted to do. It was amazing.

The next couple of days were spent mostly at either Epcot or MGM (now Hollywood Studios). We found that if we got to the park early enough and stayed late enough, there were times when we could ride thrillers like the RocknRoller Coaster, Mission: Space, and Test Track over and over again without waiting in insane lines.

"We are going to Magic Kingdom today," Chuckie announced on Tuesday. "Because I want to meet Mickey Mouse."

"You're a dork, but okay," Sarah said. "I want to ride Splash Mountain."

"Oh, me too," Chad said. "What's a good makeout ride?"

"Uh…Haunted Mansion?" I suggested. "It's relatively slow and kinda dark. And a little creepy."

"Good deal, let's go there," Chad said. There was a knock on our hotel room door. I answered it.

"Hellooo?" I asked. It was my mom. And Dylan. "Ah, crap."

"Could you guys take Dylan today?" she asked.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I asked you to and I'm your mother, and I said so," she said. "Now, come on. He promises to be good."

"Alright, come on," I said. "We're going to Magic Kingdom. You can meet Mickey Mouse."

"I can?!" Dylan asked excitedly. "Mom and Dad won't wait in the line."

"Yes, you can," I said. "Now, come on, we're leaving." He was excited. "We gotta get to Space Mountain before the line gets insane." A day with Dylan is not so bad. We could put him on the Dumbo elephant things and he'd just ride around and we could have little private conversations, or, at least, me, Chad, and Sarah could, because it seemed Chuckie had similar interests as Dylan.

"Can I _please_ go on Small World??" Chuckie begged me.

"NO!" I said. He'd been asking all day.

"Who died and made you king of the world?" Dylan asked, sending me an evil glare.

"The King of the World," I said. "Now c'mon. Pirates of the Caribbean awaits…"

"I want to see that movie again," Chuckie said. "Think there's a movie theater around here somewhere?"

"No," I said.

"Is that the only word you know?" Dylan asked. "No?"

"No," I said. He sent me a triumphant look. "No, I mean no. Forget it. As soon as we meet Mickey Mouse we're going to go to lunch."

"Yeah, and then we're going to Animal Kingdom," Sarah said. "Because I'm bored. And I wanna ride Expedition Everest."

"Yeah and Dinosaur," I said. "And I wanna see a giraffe."

"Yeah, and I want to meet Pocahontas!" Dylan said. "Let's do that!"

"But I wanna go on It's a Small World!" Chuckie complained.

"NO!" I said. As we took the bus over to Animal Kingdom, Chuckie read a piece of literature they'd picked up.

"OMG, YES!" Chuckie shouted. Everyone on the bus turned to stare at him. "Sorry. Never mind."

"Something's happening and he's really excited," Sarah explained.

"Yeah, I know," I said. "I speak fluent Chuck, unfortunately." She started giggling uncontrollably. "Not like that." She giggled even more. "Yeah, okay like that."

"Like what?" Chad asked. I jumped. I'd almost forgot he was there.

"Nothing," Sarah said. "It's just a joke we have."

"Did you know Sarah used to have a crush on me?" I asked Chad, donning an interested face.

"Uh…no," Chad said. "That's interesting. I guess. Used to?"

"Mhm," Sarah said. "Used to. Long, long time ago. I'm over it."

"Guys, I can see it!" Dylan announced. He'd spotted Animal Kingdom in the distance.

"Okay, plan for the rest of the day," I began.

"We get all this done by the time it closes, which is pretty early. Hit the hotel for a little bit, and then go see Fantasmic," Sarah said. "Since we saw Illuminations of Earth last night."

"Good deal," I said. "Let's go." Admittedly, it was a good plan, although it would have been a better plan if I'd realized what "hit the hotel" meant.

"Crap!" Chuckie exclaimed the second we reached our room. "I lost my key card."

"Well, we're in the room now, it doesn't matter," I said.

"No, we have to find it," he said. "C'mon, you help me look for it. I might have dropped it."

"We'll look in the room," Sarah said.

"Okay…" I said, taking Dylan and following Chuckie down the hall. As we started walking from the building towards the direction we'd come from, I realized he wasn't looking for his key. "Dude, did you…"

"Wanna play some Air hockey or something?" Chuckie asked.

"What's going on?" I asked. No answer. "Tell….oh. Come _on_ you're gonna get me in trouble. You didn't even really lose your key, did you?"

"Nope, it's in my pocket," he said. "We just had to get you out of the room."

"Well, you're gonna get me in trouble,' I said. "I promised my dad we'd be good."

"Hey, Saturday's our turn," he replied.

"I– what?" I asked. "No!"

"Mkay," he said. "Whatever. Air hockey?"

"C'mon, Dyl," I said. "This field trip may take longer than expected."

"Did we find the key?" he asked.

"No, we found a loser and two teenaged pervs," I said.

"Ew," he said. It had to have been at least eight by the time Chad and Sarah caught up with us.

"Good morning," I said.

"We lost track of time," Chad said.

"Yeah, there was a special on the Weather Channel about, like, hurricanes and shit," Sarah said.

"I bet," I said. "Are we going to Fantasmic or what?"

"I want to see Fantasmic," Dylan said. "Hanging out with mom and dad is boring. They never do anything. Yesterday, they just sat out by the pool all day."

"Sounds like fun," I said. "Anyway, MGM?"

Wednesday, we all went to Sea World. That was fun. Thursday and Friday were spent at Universal Orlando, which is awesome. I like the Hulk ride. It goes from 0 to 40 in 2 seconds flat. Beat that. Dylan hung around us all the time and we didn't mind, because we remember what it was like to be twelve, and it was boring when you had to stay with your parents all the time.

Saturday was Dylan's birthday, and so we took him to Epcot to ride all the rides and see the countries and stuff, because we had to be back in time for "dinner with a character" at Chef Mickey's, which is in the Contemporary Resort. Did you know that when the monorail stops running for the night, they keep it upstairs there? Or, at least, they did that night. At almost eleven, Dylan was falling asleep, and the adults in our party were still busy buying things at the little gift shop.

"Okay, Dylan's falling asleep, can we take him home?" I asked my mom.

"Yes, dear," she said. "Make sure he brushes his teeth."

"Uh-huh," I said. I went back over to the rest of my posse. "C'mon, guys, we're going home."

"How?" Sarah asked. Chad was snoring softly on her shoulder.

"We take the bus to Downtown Disney and then another one back to the hotel," I said. "Easy. C'mon, Chad, get up."

"Huh?" Chad asked, jumping. "Did I fall asleep again?"

"No," Sarah said. "C'mon we're going home."

"But I don't want to go home! We're supposed to go to the Beach tomorrow! The real Beach! Where the ocean is," Chad said. "Can't we just go back to the hotel?"

"…sure," I said. "Dylan. Wake up."

"What?" Dylan asked, sleepily.

"We're going," I said.

"Ooh, where?" he asked, suddenly awake.

"Back to the hotel," I said. "C'mon." We left the Contemporary Resort and hopped on the first bus to Downtown Disney we saw.

"Dude," Chuckie said, as we got off at Downtown Disney, "this place is awesome. How come we haven't come here before?"

"Uh…we had to be home by midnight," I said. "You want to look around?"

"Hell yeah!" he said.

"Yeah!" Dylan agreed. They started sprinting towards the closest cool looking thing.

"Hey, I wanna go!" Chad called, running after them.

"Wow, they're weird," I said.

"How weird would it be if Sharpay randomly showed up?" Sarah asked me, as we followed them.

"Not even close to weird," I said. "More insanely scary. Why, where is she?" I started turning in circles looking for her.

"Albuquerque," Sarah said. "I'm just saying. She stalks you everywhere else, why not to Florida? She could take her own private jet."

"She doesn't have one," I said. "She got a car for her birthday, remember? I think jet's next year. Imagine the Barbie dream jet."

"Ew," Sarah agreed. "It's an insult to the flight industry, it really is." The three boys had run away, and we had no idea where they went, so we just explored as well. An hour later, my cell phone rang. I was in the giant Disney store.

"Uh, hello?" I answered.

"Hi, honey, did you get home?" my mom asked.

"Oh," I said. "Shit. Um, we're in Downtown Disney, actually. Uh…we're leaving shortly, I expect."

"Meet as the bus stop," my mom said, as if she expected that to happen.

"Okay," I said, shutting my phone. "Shit, are we in trouble. Sarah!"

"Yeah?" she asked, poking her head around a rack of clothes.

"We have to go **now**," I said. "Find the guys."

"Sure," Sarah said, taking out her cell phone and beginning to text like crazy. I let her do it because it took me ten minutes to compose a text message. It was complicated. Five minutes later, Chad, Chuckie, and Dylan came running to the entrance of the store, and we joined them in running to the bus stop.

"Technically, we'll still be home by midnight," I said to my mom, who was looking at us.

"It's true," Sarah said. They let us off with a warning not to keep Dylan up so late. Sunday we went to the beach. Cocoa Beach. It was packed like crazy, but it was beautiful.

"I love the beach," I said, kicking off my shoes and flopping onto a towel.

"The ocean's so pretty," Chad said, staring mesmerized at the ocean.

"Have you never seen the ocean before?" I asked.

"No," he said. "It's very pretty."

"Okay," I said, sitting up and readjusting my shades. "See that black thing you can barely see just beyond the fog?"

"Yeah," Chad said.

"That's an offshore drilling thing," I said.

"Is that good or bad?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," I said. "I would appreciate it if gas would stop going up, but I don't think offshore drilling is a quick fix."

"No politics, please," Sarah said. "We are teenagers, we are at the beach, it is sunny, and I want to get a tan. So stay out of my sun and don't talk politics."

"Okay," I said. "Swimming anyone?"

"Isn't it supposed to be cold?" Chad asked apprehensively.

"Okay, this is Florida," I said. "And it's July, you do the math."

"Last one in is a rotten egg," Chad said, sprinting towards the water. I took off after him, and Dylan and Chuckie ran after us. As we played in the water, we got sort of separated. We kept getting pushed down the beach by the wind and waves, so Chuckie and I ended up about 200 feet down the beach from Chad and Dylan, who kept fighting the current. We were too lazy. We figured we'd eventually just walk back up the beach.

"Are you scared of sharks?" Chuckie asked me.

"After that Jaws ride at Universal, I think I'll be scared of sharks for the rest of my life," I said.

"You didn't even go on it," Chuckie said.

"Yeah, well, the outside of the ride was scary," I said. We floated around. The water was probably up to our chests if there were no waves, but the waves kept coming, so we'd bob around. "That and you could hear the people on the damn thing screaming."

"By that logic you shouldn't have gone on the Hulk, the Men in Black, or the Dr. Seuss rides," Chuckie said.

"You're scared by Dr. Seuss?" I asked. "That's ridiculous."

"Yeah, well," he began. He set off into a long winded speech about Dr. Seuss. About halfway through the speech, I started grinning uncontrollably. He was facing the beach and couldn't see the waves coming at us. I could. The "Big Kahuna" was coming. I managed to get over it, but it just exploded right on Chuckie's head. I laughed as he spluttered and tried to right himself.

"That was hilarious, man," I said.

"It was not," he said. "I'm hungry anyway." We rode the next wave to the beach and walked the long trek back to where Sarah was still sunning.

"How much sun do you think she needs?" I asked.

"I don't know," Chuckie said. "Not much."

"Sarah!" I said. She woke up. "You're gonna get sunburned. Flip over."

"Oh," she said, sleepily, rolling over on her towel. "It's hot. I…don't feel good."

"Like you're gonna throw up, don't feel good?" I asked. She nodded. "That's bad. C'mon, we gotta get you somewhere cooler now." She stood up shakily, threw her sundress on, and we started walking as fast as she could towards the beach entrance.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Chuckie asked.

"She should be, as long as she doesn't pass out," I said. "Are you still with us?"

"Uh-huh," Sarah said, weakly. We managed to get her back to a hotel, and into the air conditioned lobby. We sat her on the couch, and Chuckie fetched her some water.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "Do you feel like you want to be sick? Pass out? Or…anything?"

"No, I feel fine," Sarah said. "Which is weird."

"Yeah, you're sick," I said. "You were in the sun too long."

"How'd you know what to do?" she asked.

"It happened to me once, when we went to California. It was this really, really hot day, and it was sticky for some reason, you know the humid days, not like the dry ones we usually have, and that's what my dad did. He took me inside, because I threw up my lunch everywhere," I said. "And then I was fine." Chad and Dylan came skittering into the lobby.

"What's going on?" Chad asked. "We saw you leaving the beach. What's up?"

"She's fine," I said. Chuckie came back with some Aquafina. "Drink this." Sarah drank the water, and I explained to Chad and Dylan what was going on.

"Whoa," Chad said. "That's really interesting." I mention the moment, not because it's important to the story, but because I attribute that day as the reason Chad went on to become Pre-Med, as opposed to Pre-Bed in college. Or at least, that's his major at the moment. Who knows if he'll change it back to Pre-Bed.

So the rest of the day was fine. After we got some more fluids and some lunch into Sarah, we took her back out to the beach, and we got her in the water. It was a good day. That night, we stayed in the hotel right on the beach there, and the next day went to NASA, or the Cape Kennedy Space Center. That was awesome too, but only took half the day, so we went to this place with other Astronaut stuff (maybe a Hall of Fame) but they had some interesting kid stuff around, like a G-Force Accelerator, and an "MAT" which stands for "Multi Axis Trainer" which is awesome, I highly recommend you try one out. And by night we were back at Disney.

We spent the next couple of days just walking around the parks. Thursday we went to Blizzard Beach. Friday we said our goodbyes (especially to these two kids that lived down the hall named Liz and Is, as they introduced themselves. None of us were really interested, but they were fun), and Sarah got a hair wrap, which, evidently is like a thingy that wraps like string around a part of your hair in pretty patterns, but, uh, it seemed really gay, so I didn't get one, not that I was thinking about it or anything. They are pretty though. Saturday we flew back to Albuquerque, and, what the hell, I let Chad and Sarah do whatever they wanted. Who died and made me King of the World, right?

That's not the end of the chapter, although I really wish it was. Junior year started in September. Or maybe it was August. Whichever. And before I knew it, it was December. Which sucks, because I hate the winter.

"You know, Chucks, I've been wondering," I said one day.

"Uh-huh," he said. We were lying in his bed, and I'd been thinking.

"Why do we do this?" I asked. He snapped back to reality, because I knew he hadn't been paying attention.

"Uh, what?" he asked.

"No, really," I said. "Why do we do this? We both know you're not Ryan, so I can't possibly be satisfied with you, and we both know that since that's true I'm just going to disappoint you, so you can't possibly be happy."

"Yes, but I–" he said.

"I'm not _finished_ yet," I interrupted. "And if we both know that neither of us can ever be happy in this relationship, why do we do this?"

"I can be happy in this relationship," he said, quietly.

"No, you can't," I said.

"Yes, I can," he said. "I–"

"Don't say it. Do not say it," I warned.

"But I–"

"No!" I said. "If you say it, this is just gonna get worse. This is never going to work out, and we both know it. So just don't say it. Please."

"Troy!" he interrupted my rambling. "I was trying to say that I am happy. I am very happy whenever I'm with you. Sometimes, I'm afraid to be happy because whenever I get too happy, something bad always happens, but with you all that goes away. Because nothing bad can possibly happen. Because we're together. But if I can't make you happy, then I'll give you up. But we also both know that the second Sharpay decides she wants to get you back, you'll come complaining back to me, and we'll be right back here having this same conversation. Or maybe you'll be asleep," he added with a grin, but dropped it, remembering the serious tone this conversation had. "And then we'll do this again. So…where was I? Oh right. I would give anything to make you happy. And I think we both know that. I've tried a million times. Troy, if what you really want is Ryan, then you've just got to tell him. And even if he rejects you, at least you'll have that over and done with so that you can get on with your life."

"Maybe you should take your own advice," I said.

"I have," he said. "I got you, didn't I?"

"You're only fooling yourself, but okay," I said, rolling my eyes, and rolling over to face away from my best-friend-turned-boyfriend.

"Do I have to put this on a giant to-do list for you?" Chuckie asked, sighing and rolling me back over to face him. "Or give you some kind of incentive?"

"Like?" I asked, frowning at nothing in particular. It didn't make any sense.

"First off, by the time the sun rises tomorrow morning, you and I…no longer an item," he said.

"I couldn't do that to you," I said.

"You're not," he said. "I am." If it had been quieter, you probably could have heard his heart breaking into a million pieces, but I wasn't listening. I didn't want to hear that. Not that I'm heartless, just that I cared too much. I just wanted to wrap my arms around him, pull him tight, and tell him I'd be there forever, but we both knew that couldn't be true.

"Why do we break up so much?" I asked.

"Cuz the best part of the breakup is the makeup sex," he said, grinning, and then coughing to remember his objectives. "I mean, because this is never gonna work."

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Come on, you're smart," he said, sighing again. "I like you." I nodded. "You like Ryan."

"But I like you too," I protested.

"You lie," he said, drawing out the word. "You think you like me, because you're a lazy fucker who won't get up off of your ass to ask out Ryan, who you actually like."

"He's straight!" I protested. It was feeble, sure, but I couldn't go down without a fight. For his sake.

"I mean what I said at the beginning of this, Troy," Chuckie said. "I am not your experiment. And I am _barely_ your Ryan replacement. And only that because I like you so damn much. So, I mean it, we're over tomorrow morning."

"Then we better make tonight count," I said, rolling on top of him, but he pushed me off.

"I'm not _finished_ yet," he said. He was mocking me. It would have been funny if it hadn't been so sad. "AND…maybe I was done. Hold on, I'm sure I'll think of something else." He pretended to think for a minute, while I waited impatiently. Then, without missing a beat, he went from looking wistfully into space to jumping on top of me and kissing me for all I was worth. Obviously, I wasn't the only one who wanted this last night to count.

True to his word, we were over the next morning. He even refused to kiss me good morning, instead just throwing me my jeans and sweatshirt, which were the only items of clothing to be found on his side of the bed. He was really serious about this, and it kind of scared me. We'd talked about it before, but he'd never actually stuck to it the next morning. I don't know, it just always seemed like everything was fixed by the next morning. I went home, grabbed a shower, and ran out the door so as not to be late for school that morning (Friday). I wandered into the school, upstairs, and around to my locker. As I passed, I turned my head automatically to look at the door to the science club roof, where many a happy afternoons had been spent. Just hanging out. I walked right by Chad and Chuckie, humming It Ends Tonight by the All-American Rejects, which, I had been told via text message that morning, was our breakup song. Go figure.

"Troy! Hey, Troy!" Chad called after me, running down the hall in my direction. "What's with you today?"

"Nothing," I said, waiting for him to catch up with me before continuing to wander around the halls.

"You're going emo on us, Bolton, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," I insisted.

"Bad break up? Wait, do you even have a girlfriend?" Chad asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Do I? I have so many lately it's hard to keep track."

I turned away from Chad and continued making my way down the hall, just trying to make it through the last day of school before Christmas break. I avoided all Chad's questions for the rest of the day, and went straight home after school. My parents were throwing things into suitcases when I got there.

"Hi, Troy," Mom said. "Go and pack."

"Where are we…going…?" I asked.

"The ski resort. In Colorado. Remember?" Mom said.

"Did we…get rich all of a sudden? Cuz we seem to be taking a lot of vacations lately," I said. "And you remodeled the downstairs…"

"Your mother got a job, remember?" Dad said. "Go and pack. And tell your brother if he hasn't yet." That boggled me, but I didn't dwell on it too much, because a vacation was just what I needed to get away from ridiculous teenage drama. I packed a suitcase, and the next thing I knew, I was on a plane to Colorado. And the rest is history. Literally.

**A/N: I don't know who I think I am, but this is an insane chapter. Really. I…have no idea where such a long chapter came from all of a sudden. It's double just about any other chapter. Which 1) should make you happy, but 2) makes me sad, because it also means that this story is gonna be longer than The Board of Secrets (the original story). Sigh. Oh well. I would really love it if this was the end, but it's not, because there's at least three more chapters, although I think there will end up being something more like five more chapters. Which is insane. But Gabriella makes her first appearance in the story in the next chapter…. Yayz to Gabi fans… Sorry to those who aren't. And sorry about the length of this chapter (which is legitly 9000 words).**

**But, since I don't happen to own anything (including HSM, Disney World, Gossip Girl (kudos if you find the line), NASA (although I wish I did), and the state of Colorado (and I'm glad I don't)), maybe you should just review this, and I'll try and get the next chapter out soon. (Probably it'll be written by the weekend or sooner).**

**Samantha.**

**PS, both incidents at the beach, actually happened to me (Sarah getting sick, and the Big Kahuna wave thing), although on completely separate trips to Florida. Insane, right?**

**PS2 (lol) this would have been up sooner, but my mom is always the first to read this stuff, and she was a bum all weekend.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty One. The High School Musical Chapter. Really.  
–In Which There is a New Girl, and She Charms Everybody. Except Chuckie.**

I think I owe you some more story. I know, you just want it to be over already so you can find out what happens after, but hold your horses, cuz I'm not finished yet. Don't mind me, I'm just rambling. And don't just skip this chapter and think "I saw the movie, I know what happens, Troy, I'm not stupid." Because, no, you don't.

"Did we really fly _all_ this way _just_ to play more basketball?" my mom asked.

"Yeah," me and my dad said.

"It's the last night of vacation. The party, remember?" my mom said, twirling around to show off her outfit.

"Right, the party. The party. New Years Eve," my dad said. He is so clueless sometimes.

"Troy, they have a kids party downstairs in the Freestyle club," my mom said.

"Kids party?" I asked. There was nothing lamer than hanging with a bunch of kids. And my cell phone had been going off like crazy for the last two days, so I had finally just shut it off.

"Young adults. Now go, shower up," my mom said. I was actually impressed she knew the term shower up, but, whatever.

"Come on, one more," I protested. "Last one."

"Real quick," Dad said. I stole the ball from him and shot it.

"There we go. That's the way to end it," I said. After showering and promising to look after Dylan, I headed down to the "kids party". After immediately ditching Dylan to hang with some guys I'd met snowboarding, I got called up onstage to _sing_. Now, I don't sing.

"Troy, that's bullshit," you say, "because I've heard you sing, and I know you sing, and I know you sing for no good reason like an idiot while running purposelessly around a golf course. I've seen you do it." Yeah, well. I didn't sing. Reluctantly, mostly to save myself from public humiliation, I sang the song. I don't really like that song, I've decided. Anyway, Troy…Gabriella…you know the story. I won't bore you. And for some strange reason, that I knew wasn't strange at all, singing was the most fun I had on vacation. Because, really, who wants to take a vacation to play basketball, when that's all they do at home anyway?

The next morning we had to leave first thing, which sucked, because it meant going home, where evil was awaiting. And by evil, I mean ridiculous teenage drama. Hate it. The plane ride back, which isn't that long, by the way, I colored a large gob of white sticky tack with a purple marker to make purple sticky tack for no other reason than I could.

"Okay…it snowed," I said. "That is awesome."

"Oh, my God, it snowed!" Dylan shouted triumphantly, running out of my line of vision stage right to jump into a big pile of snow just outside the airport. "Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow!"

"Come on, Dylan, we have to go home," I called. A big gob of snow hit me right in the ear. "Stupid." I picked up the nearest snow chunk and lobbed it at Dylan. By the time Mom and Dad had all the…everything…put in the car to drive home, Dylan and I were both covered in snow.

"Now look," my mom said. "You're gonna get the car all wet." Me and Dylan immediately stripped off our jackets and threw them in the trunk before hopping into the backseat.

"It never snow," I said. "It should snow more often. It's awesome."

"Chuckie says it's one of the signs of the apocalypse," Dylan said. Little did we know that a few more of the signs were gonna get hit before long. For instance, singing basketball teams, and me dating Gabriella, and Chad actually talking to Taylor.

Ridiculous Teenage Drama was waiting on its front lawn for the second I got home. And by that, I mean, Chuckie, Sarah, and Chad were playing in the snow on their lawn. I went as quickly as I could into the house, mostly to escape said Ridiculous Teenage Drama but also to change my pants, because they were wet from the snow.

"Troy," Chuckie said, barging into my room.

"Do you mind?" I asked.

"I've seen worse," he said, grinning. "Why don't you answer your phone?"

"Uh…no bars in the mountains," I lied, pulling dry pants on.

"Bullshit, cuz Chad said he talked to you every day," Chuckie said. Busted.

"I didn't want to talk to you," I said. "I was mad at you."

"For what?" he asked.

"For dumping me so suddenly," I said. "And for good."

"But I had to. You don't understand," he said. "You're too much for me, and I'm not enough for you. And I mean that not the way I'd usually mean it, because this is a serious conversation."

"No, I do understand," I said. "It was sudden is all."

"So are you talking to me again?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Best Friends Forever."

"Now that's gay," he remarked laughing.

"No, 'besties' would be pretty gay," I said.

"Yeah it would," he said. "Really gay."

"As are we," I said, laughing.

"Does this call for a handshake or a…hug or something?" he asked.

"Nah, I think we're good," I said. "Plus there's also a can of worms in here somewhere."

"Tell me about it," he said. "Well, I left Chad and Sarah alone, should probably get back to them before something bad happens."

"Yep," I said. "I have some snow pants around here somewhere."

"Probably under the large stack of worm cans," Chuckie suggested. We both laughed and I fished a pair of brand new snow pants (bought specifically for the Colorado trip) out and we went outside to play in the snow like we were six and not sixteen. Hey, it never snows.

By the next afternoon, and I'm not even kidding you, every single flake of snow was gone. Really. All gone. And we could walk around without jackets again. It was insane.

"Well, that was fun," Chad said, rolling his eyes. "Now I'm bored again."

"Yeah, me too," I said.

"Me three," Sarah said.

"And I'm last," Chuckie said. "But still bored."

"Hey, I'm bored too!" Dylan interjected.

"Uh-huh," I said. "Proposals for stuff to do?" The phone rang. "Please be something to do." It was Becca for Dylan. He went over to her house. "He's evil."

"He's not so bad," Chuckie said. "Remember Florida?"

"Is it possible to forget?" I returned. "We met Alice in Wonderland." Chad laughed, as if I was saying that was the high point of our trip. Dylan had been especially excited to meet her.

"Well, this seems boring enough," Sarah said. "I'm going home." She stood up, stretched and left.

"Um…aren't you going after her?" I asked.

"Uh…why would I?" Chad asked.

"Uh…because that's what you always do," I said. "You know, for, like, the last three years."

"Insane awkwardness alert," Chuckie said. "I'm going that way." He went out of my field of vision to the left.

"She broke up with you?" I asked. Chad nodded. "That's terrible. When?"

"Right after school ended. Couple weeks ago," Chad said.

"Why?" I asked. Chad shrugged.

"Do people really need reasons these days?" he asked. "We're friends evidently still…whatever."

"That's really sad," I said. "You were together for, like, ever."

"Can we not talk about it?" Chad asked. "Tell me to go to the mall and pick up chicks, or that it's a good thing that I'm single."

"Uh…no one tells you to tone your flab when you're single," I threw out randomly. He stared at me.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said. "There's a…never mind."

"You think I have flab?" Chad asked, suddenly very concerned and examining his stomach.

"No!" I said. "It's part of a song."

"You're…weird today," Chad said.

"I'm weird every day if you hadn't noticed," I said. "And more frequently as of recent."

"See that right there. That was weird. Why do you do that?" Chad asked.

"What? Talk like a normal person?" I asked.

"Talk like a textbook," he said. "Using phrases like 'more frequently as of recent'?"

"I'm in AP English?" I guessed. I really didn't understand what was so weird about it. Fortunately, he dropped it, and we were free to go about our lives.

A few days later, a Monday, if I remember correctly, it was back to school. Fun, fun. Not.

"Hey guys, Happy New Year!" I announced, getting off the bus.

"Hell yeah! It's gonna be a happy Wildcat new year! Because in two weeks, we're going to the Championships with you leading us to infinity and beyond!!" Chad said. "And what team?"

"Wildcats!!"

"No, but really, we're gonna slaughter West. Given how we took down South," Zeke said.

"Yeah, they suck without Justin and Josh," Chuckie said. "I mean, really, really, terrible." We walked into the school. Sharpay flounced past us, as she usually did.

"The ice princess has returned from the North Pole," Zeke said.

"Shut up, you know you like it," Jared said to him.

"She probably spent the holidays the way she usually does," Chad said.

"How's that?" Jason asked.

"Shopping for mirrors," Chad said. He told this joke every year, as a result of her accidentally letting it slip that she'd been mirror shopping during the holidays during sixth grade, and every year, it provoked Taylor McKessie (whose last name I shall cease to use, because we all know who I'm talking about) to say "Behold the zoo animals heralding the new year. How tribal" and this year was no exception. We all headed to homeroom. And I know you're wondering about the pink jelly. Well, it's both an inside joke that you wouldn't get, because you had to be there, and a very well kept secret.

"Hi Troy," Sharpay said.

"Hey," I began to say. I was going to ask her about her vacation to Tahiti that she'd been planning (turns out she didn't go), but an unfamiliar-yet-familiar head of brown hair caught my attention and I lost my train of thought. Completely just…derailed. Gone. Which ended with me getting a quarter of our homeroom detention Darbus-style. Which was so not my fault. After class, I waited for her in the hall ((Explicit Warning: Gabriella's first line in this entire story is next.))

"I can't–" "–believe it." "Well me–" "–neither. But how?" _Oh, God, I'm finishing her sentences. This cannot be good._

"My mom's company transferred her here to Albuquerque. I can't believe you live here. I looked for you at the lodge on New Year's Day," she said.

"We had to leave first thing," I whispered.

"Uh, why are you whispering?" she asked. I coughed and looked around.

"Uh, my friends know about the snowboarding, but I haven't exactly told them about the…singing thing." I said.

"Too much for them to handle?" she asked, giggling.

"Nah, it was cool," I said. "But, you know, my friends…it's not what I do." I. Don't. Sing. I am **Troy Bolton** and I do _not_ sing. That's what I was establishing. _Troy Bolton_ does not sing. And Chad Danforth does not dance. Until he met his match. But I digress, as that's a different chapter. "So anyway, Welcome to East High. And now that you've met Ms. Darbus, I bet you can't wait to sign up for that." I pointed at the sign up sheet for the Winter Musicale.

"I don't think I'll be signing up for anything for a while. I just wanna get to know the school. But if you sign up, I might consider coming to the show."

"Yeah, that's completely impossible," I said.

"What's impossible, Troy?" Sharpay asked. Watching the movie, she looks a lot more like a jungle cat than I ever remember her being. Maybe Chad is right, but I digress again. "I wouldn't think impossible is even in your vocabulary." Then she spotted Gabriella. Uh-oh. "Oh, so nice of you to show our new classmate around. Were you gonna sign up too? My brother and I have starred in all the school's productions and we really welcome newcomers. There are a lot of supporting roles in the show, I'm sure we can find something for you." Marking her territory.

"No, I was just looking at all the bulletin boards. Lots going on at this school. Wow. Nice penmanship," Gabriella said. She sent me a smile and walked off. I watched her go wondering what it was about her that couldn't make me stop staring.

"So, Troy, I missed you during vacation," Sharpay said. _Yeah, it was the first one we've spent apart for years. _"What'd you do?"

"Oh, you know, basketball, snowboarding, more basketball," I said.

"So, when's the big game?"

"Two weeks."

"You are so dedicated. Just like me. I hope you'll come and watch me in the musical. Promise?" I nodded. "Toodles."

"Toodles," I said.

"So…who's in the hot brunette?" Chad asked me as we "hit the gym" as he called it.

"Uh, her name's Gabriella. She transferred here," I said. "So about that school musical. Is it true you get extra credit just for auditioning?"

"Dude who cares?"

"It's always good to have extra credit. You know, for…college." Wow, Troy, find a lamer way of saying "because the pretty brunette girl wants me to and I want to impress her". Seriously. I am such a dumbass.

"Do you think LeBron James or Shaquille O'Neil auditioned for their school musical?"

"Maybe."

"Dude, the music in those shows isn't hiphop or rock. Or anything essential to culture. It's, like, show music. It's all costumes and makeup and dude. It's frightening."

"I know, I just thought it'd be a good laugh," I said. He gave me a look like "Chuckie thinks it'd be a good laugh. You're insane". "Sharpay's kind of cute too," I added.

"Yeah, so's a mountain lion. But you don't pet it," he said. I cut him off with ordering the team around and singing a song before he could interrogate me about thinking Sharpay's "cute".

"And what team?" "Wildcats!!" "Get'cha Head in the Game!" "Yeah!"

"Troy met a hot brunette," Chad announced at lunch.

"I did not," I said. "Drop it." Each of us had our respective cheerleaders attached to us. With crazy glue. Chuckie and Ruby, Me and Sapphire, Chad and Sarah, Jason and Erica, Zeke and Tina. Hold it, you say, Zeke and _Rachel_. No. Not Zeke and Rachel. Okay, this story is worth explaining.

Okay, after Zeke and Kelsi broke it off freshman year, Zeke and Rachel got back together. **But**. When Sharpay was driven out of cheerleading by Rachel and her psycho cheerbots, I wasn't the only one annoyed. Zeke talked to Rachel. The talk turned into a shouting match, which turned into a bellowing match, which turned into Zeke storming out of the gym in a very bad mood. And Rachel hasn't spoken to him or any of the rest of us since. Breakups are so much fun. Not.

"Okay, look at it like this. No offense girls," Chad said. "Girls are evil and they are ruining our lives. Example. Girls equals time times money. Now, time equals money. So, girls equals money squared. And money is the root of all evil. So girls equals the root of all evil squared, so girls equals evil. Got that?" Sarah and I burst out laughing, shortly followed by the rest of everyone around us.

"That's some high end algebra man," I said. "Come up with that all on your own?"

"No, I found it on the internet and memorized it," Chad said. "But it was worth all the work. We are six single guys." The five of us looked at Chad, who looked at us. "I can count right? There are six of us."

"Yes, Chad, go on," I said. "We're all so interested in the next couple of sentences to leave your mouth."

"Why can't we find good women around here?" Chad asked.

"Because you just proved, via old proverbs and some really complicated math, that they were evil and ruining our lives," Chuckie said. "And I don't about you, but they're not ruining my life."

"They're not ruining my life either," I said.

"Nah, I'm good," Zeke said. Jason had fallen asleep.

"How does he do that?" Erica asked. She and Tina had just about as many brain cells combined as Jason himself had. And I'm not stereotyping blonde cheerleaders here. Or cheerleaders in general. They just weren't that smart.

"It's a form of ancient art," I said. "But go on, Chad, I'm very interested in this."

"And since women are evil and ruining our lives, we should just…not," Chad said.

"Not?" Zeke asked.

"Yeah, not," Chad said. "Date. Women. At all."

"Okay," Chuckie agreed immediately. "I think I can be on board with that." Chad, Zeke and I started laughing. "No, really."

"We know," I said. "I suppose I could be on board with that."

"Zeke?" Chad asked.

"Uh…I've been single the longest," he said. "I think."

"Then it's a pact," Chad said. It was the weirdest pact we'd ever made. "So, what's with the hot brunette?"

"She's just a friend," I said. "Even before the pact. I'm more a blonde type of guy."

"Thanks, Troy," Sapphire said.

"Hey, I'm just saying," I said.

"Yeah, I'm more a blonde type of guy too," Zeke said.

"I like the brunettes," Chad said.

"We know," Zeke and I said.

"Chucks?" I asked.

"Uh…I like the brunets," he said. "A little blondish maybe. But real blonds definitely aren't my type. Well…maybe. If they had blue eyes…dazzlingly blue, you know?"

"Zac Efron much?" Sarah said. We all laughed again.

"The word you're looking for is…anyway…" Ruby said. I suppressed a smirk. It took a _lot_ of self constraint, but I did it.

The next morning, I had the sudden urge to go the auditorium to check out the auditions. Stealthily. Because I'm Troy Bolton and I cannot be seen in the auditorium without a blonde chick to make out with. Common knowledge. As I was deftly hiding behind a mop, Gabriella came around and busted me by asking the one most simplest question, like, ever, but I couldn't answer it. Might I have added that my train of thought was still…just gone. Finito.

"Why are you hiding behind a mop?" she asked me. I stared at her. "Your friends don't know you're here, do they?"

"Uh…right," I said. So we watched the singers be just terrible on stage. I'm not a singer (okay, I _wasn't_ a singer), but even I could tell they sucked. As Sharpay and Ryan did their song and dance combo, all I could think is Wow. I'd seen them dance about a thousand times before, but they're still amazing every time. I mean it. They're good, I gotta give it to them. And _then_ (and this should have stopped me liking her in the first place, but whatever) Gabriella decided "Hey guess what I want to audition." I was all "WHAT? Are you _insane_?" Evidently, she is. Who knew? Which resulted in me singing with her again. And I could feel it. I'm sure what "it" was, but it was definitely everywhere in the air, and I could feel it. I don't know why I'm telling you all this, because you obviously know it all.

"Call back? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Sharpay screamed. Everyone could hear her. She had a habit of that. Quite the drama queen. My brain registered one thought: Take cover. When finally I went to lunch, because my hunger ultimately won out over my fear of Sharpay, there was chaos everywhere.

"What's up?" I asked Chad.

"Well, you missed free period workout yesterday to audition for some heinous musical, and suddenly people are…confessing," Chad said. "Yeah, and Zeke. Zeke is baking. Crème Brûlée!"

"What's that?" I asked.

"Oh, it's a creamy custard-like filling with a carmelized surface. It's really satisfying," Zeke said.

"Shut _up_ Zeke," Chad said. Zeke gave him a "you don't own me" face and left to sit with some skater dudes. "Look, do you see what's happening here, man? Our team is coming apart because of your singing thing. Even the drama geeks and the brainiacs suddenly think that they can, like, talk to us. The skater dudes are mingling. Suddenly people think that they can do other stuff. Stuff that is not their stuff. They've got you thinking about show tunes, when we've got a playoff game next week.." He stormed off before I could ask him what got him so Sharpay-like all of a sudden. I just ignored it and went to hang with Zeke and the skater dudes. Because they're cool. And about three seconds later, I had an idea. Invite Gabriella up to the science club roof. Because that's cool.

"At my other schools I was the freaky math girl. It's cool coming here and being…anyone I want to be. When I was singing with you, I just felt like…a girl," she said.

"You even look like one too!" I said, reminding myself that she was a girl. A _girl_. A girl who was not Sharpay. It's a strange emotion, it really is. You should try it someday, I really recommend it.

My dad really needs to learn to be nicer to people who don't play Varsity basketball. Really. Enough said.

"What _spell_ has this elevated-IQ temptress girl cast that suddenly makes _you_ wanna be in a musical?" Chad interrogated me in the library on Thursday.

"Look, I just did it. Who cares?" I asked.

"Who cares? How about your most loyal best friend?" Chad asked. I snorted. "Look, you're a hoops dude, not a musical singer person. Have you ever seen Michael Crawford on a cereal box?"

"Who's Michael Crawford?" I asked absently.

"Exactly my point. He was the Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. Now my mom has seen that musical 27 times, and put Michael Crawford's picture in our refrigerator. Yeah, not on it, in it. So my point is, if you play basketball, you're gonna end up on a cereal box. If you sing in musicals, you'll end up in my mom's refrigerator," Chad said.

"Why would she put his picture _in_ her refrigerator?" I asked. Better question: Why didn't I _know_ that? Answer: Cuz I, like, never go over to his house. Have I gone to his house once in this entire story? No.

"One of her crazy diet ideas. Look, I don't attempt to understand the female mind, Troy," Chad said. "It's frightening territory. How can you expect the rest of us to be focused on a game if you're off somewhere in leotards singing Twinkle Towne?"

"No one said anything about leotards," I said defensively.

"Not yet, my friend, but just you wait," he said. I sighed. Chad and his dumb ideas. I'd already sworn of chicks for him, what more did he want??

The next day at lunch, the team didn't show up so I looked for them in the locker rooms.

"Spider Bill Netrine, class of '72. He was the MVP in the league championship game," Chad said.

"Sam Nedler, class of '02. Also known as Sammy Slamma Jamma. Captain, MVP of the league championship team," Zeke said.

"The Thunder Clap Hap Hadden, '95. Led the Wildcats to back-to-back city championships. A legend," Jason said.

"Yes, legends, one and all," Chad said. I was confused. "But do you think that any of these Wildcat legends became legends by getting involved in musical auditions just days before the league championships?"

"Get'cha Head in the Game!" the team shouted.

"No. These Wildcat legends became legends because they never took their eye off the prize."

"Get'cha Head in the Game!"

"Now, who was the first sophomore ever to make starting varsity?"

"Troy!"

"So, who voted him our team captain this year?" Chad asked.

"Us!"

"And who is gonna get their sorry butts kicked in Friday's championship game if Troy's worried about an audition?"

"We are."

"Guys, come on." I said, finally getting it. "I mean, there's 12 people on this team, not just me."

"Just 12? Oh, no. I think you're forgetting about one very important 13th member of our squad," Chad said, handing me a picture.

"My dad," I said.

"Yes, Troy. Wildcat basketball champion, class of 1981. Champion, father, and now coach. It's a winning tradition like no other," Chad said.

"Guys, if you don't know that I'll put 110 of my guts into that game, then you don't know me," I said.

"But we just thought…" Chad began, but I cut him off.

"And I'll tell you what I thought. I thought that you're my friends. Win together, lose together, teammates," I said. This was the speech I'd prepared for when they freaked out about my coming out. It was early, but it worked.

"But suddenly, the girl, and the singing," Chad said.

"Man! I'm for the team! I've always been for the team. She's just someone I met," I said. "She's a _friend_. Alright the singing thing is nothing. Probably just a way to keep my nerves down. I don't know. It means nothing to me. You're my guys and this is our team. Gabriella is not important. I'll forget about her, I'll forget the audition and we'll go out and get that championship. Everyone happy now?" They passed agreeing looks around. "Good." We left the locker rooms. "Cuz I don't mean a word of it," I grumbled all to myself when I got into the hallway. Gabriella was at her locker, and she completely blew me off. I couldn't understand it. It made no sense, because I'm the kind of idiot who doesn't notice when his two best friends stab him in the back in front of his face. It seemed like a good time to take a run, something new I decided to try. I made a mental list of all the weird things in my life.

One. Gabriella sketchily shows up at my school after I meet her for five minutes on vacation.

Two. Chuckie dumps me out of the blue, for good, and for real, and then acts like nothing ever happened.

Three. Chad's new anti-girl pact. Was he going gay on us now? Or bitter about his breakup?

Four. Sharpay acting weird about the callbacks. She _had_ to know that I didn't want to steal her and Ryan's parts.

Five. There was a lot of singing going on as of late.

Six. People are confessing, not that that's a bad thing. But Chad and Sharpay both think I'm behind it, which I'm not.

Seven. I'm feuding with my dad, and Gabriella won't even talk to me, and I don't know why.

Eight. I can't make any baskets.

Nine. I'm too tired from this run to think anymore.

Ten. There might be a slight possibility that the feeling I get around Gabriella might be love. Which sucks. But she's cool.

And so that was the list. It sucked. The weekend sucked. I spent it emo-ly in my room, listening to music as loudly as my parents would allow, being interrupted by Dylan every so often so he could ask me for help on his homework, or to make sure I was okay, or something. Monday came, and it was very awkward to see Gabriella, so I just ran away to the science club garden to organize my thoughts. Unfortunately my team followed me.

"Hey, um… We just had another team meeting," Chad said.

"Oh, wonderful," I said, rolling my eyes.

"We had a team meeting about how we haven't been acting like a team," Chad said. "I mean us, not you. Look, about the singing thing…"

"Look, dude, I don't even wanna talk about it," I said.

"We just want you to know that we're gonna be there, okay? Cheering for you," Chad said.

"Yeah, if singing is something you wanna do, we should be boosting you up, not tearing you down," Zeke said.

"Yeah. Win or lose, we're teammates. That's what we're about. Even if you turn out to be the worst singer in the world."

"Which we don't know because we haven't actually heard you sing," Jason said. I stared at him. He heard me sing all the time.

"And you're not gonna hear me sing, guys," I said, ignoring that. "Because Gabriella won't even talk to me and I don't know why."

"We do," Chad said. Zeke gave me some cookies in enough saran wrap to choke an entire ocean full of fishes.

"I baked these fresh today. You'll probably want to try one before we tell you the rest," he said. "And the saran wrap kind of got away from me."

"So…" I said after hearing the story, "you guys are complete douches."

"Pretty much, that's what it boils down to," Chad said. "Yeah."

"Good to know," I said. "Sixteen years, you think I would have figured that out."

"Look," Chad said. "We thought Gabriella and the whole singing thing was ruining our chances of winning the championship. But you're our captain and our best friend." I suddenly realized a missing presence.

"Guys, where's Chuckie?" I asked. They all exchanged uncomfortable looks. "Guys…?"

"I don't know," Chad said. "We couldn't find him."

"Oh, jeez," I said. "Jerk." I knew exactly where he was. Avoiding me. And hating me for my damn butterflies. I mean, I love all of God's creatures, and the metaphors they represent, but the butterflies have to be murdered.

"You know, and for the record, it'd still be the longest standing pact we ever had if you wanted to ask her out," Chad said.

"Changed your opinion on women all of a sudden?" I teased.

"No, he finally worked up the nerve to talk to Taylor McKessie," Zeke said.

"Right," I said. "How is that? Got her hooked on the Chad love?"

"Who calls it that?" Chad asked.

"You do," I said. "All the time with Sarah." Chad looked embarrassed.

"Can we talk about something else?" he asked. The bell rang.

"Saved by the bell," Jason said, grinning.

Of course, I still had problems. Gabriella still wouldn't talk to me, although I knew why. I went over to her house to make up with her, which ended with me singing (really badly, I realize) on her balcony. It was kinda stalkerish, I gotta admit.

"So you're saying you can't go out with me because your basketball team has sworn off women?" Gabriella asked me as we looked over her backyard.

"Pretty much," I said. "That sounds a little gay, doesn't it?"

"Just a little," she said, laughing. "You gonna implement shower orgies next?" I laughed slightly at the thought of Chad and the guys in a shower orgy, but made it off as a sound of preposterousness.

"Preposterous," I said. "Chad would never go for it. Or the rest of us." Gabriella just giggled.

"When do you suppose they'll give up the pact?" she asked.

"Give it until Friday," I said. "Chad's got a major crush on your friend Taylor, so he'll probably ask her out, and when he does, then I can break the pact."

"That's the most ridiculous reason for turning down a girl I ever heard," she said. "And I've heard some ridiculous ones."

"Yeah, well, this is a ridiculous school," I said. "You learned that the hard way."

"I'm sorry I angered your…girlfriend," she said.

"Uh…ex-girlfriend. Seriously ex. Like so long ago it's not even in recall," I said. "And now she's gone…insane, I think. Seriously don't think she'll ever talk to me again."

"It'd be a shame," Gabriella said, sarcastically.

"Yeah," I said "So, I should be getting home."

"It's like nine," Gabriella said.

"Yeah, my parents have weird letting go issues, but we can talk about them some other time," I said.

The next day we resumed our rehearsals for the callbacks, and on Wednesday morning, the time of the callbacks got changed to the same day and the time as the game and the decathlon. I smelled a seriously fake blonde shrew. Not that I'd ever call her that to her face. She may be evil, and another of my best friends, but she scares me. And she gets really touchy when someone insinuates that her hair color isn't real. So we'll just say it is.

"Actually, I think it's two rats, neither of them named Darbus," Kelsi said. So let's say I forgave her for kissing Ryan. It was, like, one time, and they were drunk. And we'd gotten drunk several times since, and it hadn't happened again.

"Do you know something about this, small person?" Chad asked.

"Ms. Darbus might think that she's protecting the show, but Ryan and Sharpay are pretty much only concerned with protecting themselves," Kelsi said.

"Do you know what I'm gonna do to those two over-moussed show dogs?" Chad asked, angrily.

"Nothing," I said, quickly. They were good people under their competitive nature. And I didn't want to get our asses kicked. Plus we could get kicked off the team for being violent at school. "We're not gonna do anything to them. Except sing, maybe. Alright, now this is only gonna happen if we all work together. Now who's in?" It was a "let's do this yo" moment.

Friday came. Do you know how hard it is to go from playing basketball to running down a hallway somehow managing to change outfits, then sing a song to win a callback that ten days ago you didn't know existed, to go back to playing basketball and slaughtering West? It's not easy. But I'm cool like that.

"Congratulations, Wildcat!" Gabriella exclaimed, sneaking up behind me for an attack hug.

"What about your team?" I asked.

"We won too!" she exclaimed. I moved in to kiss her, screw the pact, my stomach was going insane with the damn insectuous feelings, but Chad ruined it.

"Team voted you the game ball, Captain!" he announced, handing me the ball.

"Yeah, thank you. Thanks a lot," I said. I just wanted to kiss her to see if it was all my body kept telling me it was going to be (FYI: It _so_ was). I walked off to find somewhere to put the ball down, but Gabriella found me.

"Chad just asked Taylor out," she announced, squealing. "Which means…"

"So it does," I said. "Gabriella Elizabeth Montez, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes!" she squealed excitedly, jumping into another hug. Her hair smells like guava. And I'm not even sure what guava smells like. Like Gabriella's hair, I guess. Kelsi was walking by so I stopped her.

"Composer, here's your game ball. You deserve it, playmaker," I told her. She obviously had no idea what to do with it, but Jason came by and helped her shoot it, one of his only skills besides the ability to nap at the most awkward of times.

The afterparty was definitely not all it was cracked up to be. It was moved from Chad's to the Evans' at the last second, and did you know Gabriella doesn't drink? I was almost appalled. Until I remembered that only a few of the cheerleaders ever did, and it wasn't that strange. So we danced instead. Basically what we were going to do was dance. And we did. And not to seem needy, or like I can't not be in a relationship or something, but it's really nice to have someone who cares about you. Which, in retrospect, makes me hate myself, but that's okay. I try not to mind too much.

And you know what? We are all in this together. Even if it is just for the cookies.

**A/N: I've been procrastinating this since Thursday, sorry. And that's not the end. Trust me, you'll know when it's the end. And this isn't it. And just so you know, the next chapter is longer than the last one. This one isn't. If I'm writing a little emo-ly, it's because I got a little too invested in Chad and Sarah's relationship, forgetting that they had to break up eventually, and didn't prepare myself for their breakup, and I'm really sad that I had to break them up. I'm also sad to break up Troy and Chuckie, but I really like Troy and Ryan together. It's unfortunate that I already wrote that part.**

**Anyway, so I don't own anything, like HSM, most of the script of this chapter, or the line from Gossip Girl that I used. So, thanks for reading, and please review! Because the next chapter is good. And I promise to stop procrastinating…eventually. :D**

**Samantha.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: The length of this chapter makes me shudder. It's way too long.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two. The "I Hate My Life Tetrology" Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4.  
–In Which There are Four Parts, Makeups, and Really Long Conversations. And Reasons.**

**Part One.  
**_**It's 2am, and she calls me, cuz I'm still awake…**_

"Gabriella," I said, softly.

"No, Troy," Gabriella said. "This is the last time. It's over."

"Oh, well, in that case," I said, "never mind." I turned around and stormed very Sharpay-like out of the gymnasium. Then I punched the bulletin board just outside. Which hurt. A lot. "Ouch!"

"Don't hurt yourself," Chuckie said, chuckling. I hadn't noticed him there, but it was the most he'd spoken to me for, like, a month. It was obvious he'd just emerged from the locker rooms, and hadn't been expecting to see me here. But now that he had, he was absolutely delighted to see me frustrated. Damn sadistic ex-boyfriends.

"Don't even get me started on you," I said, frowning at him.

"Hey, this one is all your fault," he said, fairly.

"You just don't freaking like her," I argued. "This is not at all my fault."

"Your fault you asked her out," he said.

"Well, everything has been righted with the world," I said. "She dumped me."

"Whoop-de-doo," he said, turning in preparation of stalking off. "I'm still not speaking to you– Wait a sec, she dumped you? How come?"

"Blowing her off one too many times, I guess," I said.

"God, what a bitch," Chuckie said. "I'm leaving."

"Come on, talk to me," I pleaded.

"No!" came the reply. I let him walk away. Then I put my back to the wall, slid down it, and put my head in my arms. It had to have been almost an hour later before anyone came around. That person was Sharpay. Which didn't make me any happier.

"What do you _want_, Shar?" I asked.

"Jeez, I just wanted to see if you were alright," Sharpay said. "When you didn't show up for rehearsal, I knew something was up. And Gabriella won't talk about it."

"Not that you care, but she dumped me," I said. Sharpay donned a face like she really did care, and took a seat on the floor next to me. "You're gonna get your pants dirty."

"I don't care," she said. "They'll wash."

"Wow, you must really care," I said.

"Course I care," she said. "I always care. Why'd she dump you?"

"I don't know," I said. "Blowing her off for the guys too much."

"I warned her that you were pretty much basketball 24/7," she said. "Does she listen? No!"

"What am I gonna do, Shar?" I said. I must have looked like a lost puppy, and she tried her hardest not to laugh at my expression. "I don't know what to do."

"I don't know," she said, truthfully.

"I love her," I said. It was the first time I'd said it out loud, although I'd thought it plenty of times.

"Didja try telling her that?" Sharpay asked. I shook my head.

"It's too soon," I said. "I didn't want to scare her off."

"Well that's true," Sharpay said, nodding in agreement. "You ever been in love before?"

"No," I lied, automatically. "Well, yes, technically. Just once."

"How'd you deal with that?" Sharpay asked, putting an arm around me for comfort.

"I didn't, really," I said. "D'you think I should?"

"Are you still in love with that person?" she asked. I nodded sadly and donned a "fuck my life" face. "Okay…" She donned a confused face as she tried to figure that out.

"It can't happen," I said. "So, forget I said it."

"Oh," Sharpay said. "I'm sorry. Why not?" Whoa. Hold up. Sharpay Evans said she's sorry, and it can't even be her fault. We have major breakthrough.

"Did you just say you were sorry?" I asked, for clarification's sake.

"Yeah," she said. "So?"

"You never say you're sorry," I said.

"Consider yourself lucky," she said. "But back to Gabriella. If you really want her, you should fight for her. And maybe try hanging out with the guys less. I know from experience, it sucks to be blown off for a bunch of guys."

"Sorry," I said.

"That's okay," Sharpay said. "I wasn't the best girlfriend in the world either."

"Well, that's for sure," I said. "Are you going out with Zeke now?"

"Nah, I've given up the whole dating scene," Sharpay said. A second shocker.

"You're what?!" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "It's gotten so boring. Maybe I'll be dating again by this summer, if you're real lucky."

"No, Sharpay," I said.

"I know, I know," she said. "I'm just teasing. Going for…sevenths? What number are we on now?"

"I have no idea," I said.

"Well, that's not exactly my style," she said. She looked at her watch and sighed. "I gotta go, Troy, Ryan's waiting. But we can talk tomorrow some more if you want. Or you can call me any time." She stood up and pulled me to my feet. "Bye, Troy."

"Wait," I said, and she turned around. I closed the difference between us, and gave her a big hug.

"What was that for?" she asked, straightening her shirt when it was over.

"For the talk," I said. "I feel better now."

"Good," Sharpay said, smiling. "Now go get back together with Gabriella. The future of Twinkle Towne depends on it." I laughed weakly.

"Thanks, Shar," I said.

"You're welcome," Sharpay said. "Toodles."

"Toodles," I said, grinning. She walked off, and I leaned against the wall, sighing. When she was out of sight, and the sound of her high heels could no longer be heard clicking down the hall, I headed into the gym, and out to the parking lot. I got out my cell phone and began dialing Gabriella's number while walking over to my mom's car, which I'd brought to school that day, having missed both the bus and Dad.

"Hello?" Gabriella answered.

"Gabriella, I'm so sorry," I said.

"I don't want to hear it, Troy," Gabriella said.

"Please, just hear me out," I said.

"Alright, but if you creep onto my balcony again, you're in big trouble," she said.

"I promise you I am nowhere near your balcony," I said. "Gabriella, I messed up. And I'm sorry. But if you take me back I promise you, that I will…try my very hardest to include you in everything I do. To the amount you want."

"You're really terrible at this," Gabriella said. I could hear the smile in her voice.

"I know," I said. "I haven't been sitting around preparing a speech."

"I'm sorry too," Gabriella said. "I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. And I apologize."

"So, we're good?" I asked.

"Yes, Troy, we're good," Gabriella said.

"Thank God," I said. "Now Sharpay won't have to disembowel me."

"Sharpay?" Gabriella asked.

"Evidently the future of Twinkle Towne was in the balance," I said.

"Well, that's oddly nice of her," Gabriella said. "You'd think that if we broke up, she'd like it. She's always after you."

"There's probably some stuff I should tell you before we go any further," I said. "Are you at your house?"

"Yeah," Gabriella said. "Why?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes," I said. "See you."

"Uh, bye?" Gabriella said. I flipped my phone closed and dropped it into the passenger seat of the Camry before turning on the car, the headlights, the fog lights, the windshield wipers, the heat, and the stereo, and shifting into drive to leave the school parking lot. I drove through the foggy mist to Gabriella's house, where she was waiting for me in the living room.

"Hey," I said to her, once inside.

"Hey," she said. She ran over and gave me a hug. "I missed you." She stopped for a second and smelled me for some unknown reason. "Why do you smell like Sharpay?"

"Long story," I said. "Let me start from the beginning."

Over the course of the next hour or so, I told Gabriella all about the history of Sharpay, from kindergarten, right up to the talk we'd just had.

"Wow," Gabriella commented when I was finally finished. "I – wow."

"I know," I said. "And I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, but we were always so busy…"

"I know," Gabriella said. "Look, I don't want to get in the way of something so complicated…"

"No," I said. "Please, get in the middle of it. You have no idea how happy you make me."

"I do?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "So much better than Sharpay ever has."

"And there's nothing going on between you two now," Gabriella asked.

"No way," I said. "That is so over and done with."

"If I was smart, I'd say there's something going on between you and someone," Gabriella said, suspiciously.

"Like who?" I asked, laughing at the thought. It was preposterous. And kind of ironic. She's a smart girl. "You are my only girl. C'mere." We hugged again. "I love you," I mumbled. She froze.

"What?" Gabriella said. I froze too, realizing what I'd just let slip.

"Nothing!" I said, quickly. "I gave you a hug and then I just _stopped talking_."

"You love me," Gabriella said, softly. "I can't believe this." I looked at the ground, formulating an answer. I could lie, but she'd just heard me say it, and it was true. To an almost infinite extent. Like if both her and Ryan were dying, and I could only save one of them…I might have a really hard time deciding which to save. Although, unless my superior basketball or time telling skills were going to save them, I might not even have the problem, because I'm not so proficient in fighting Voldemort, Volturi, evil cheerleaders or whoever it is that has them hostage.

"I do," I said. "I really do. And it you're not okay with that, then–"

"Okay with it?" she asked. "Hell, Troy, I love you too!"

"You do?" I asked, happily.

"Of course!" Gabriella said. "I just…you know, the girl never wants to be the first one to say it. Guys get a little trippy when told something like that." Lol, she said trippy.

"I understand," I said. "This is unbelievable. I love you."

"I love you too!" Gabriella said.

"Oh, that feels good," I said. I looked around and suddenly realized it was almost nine thirty. "Oh, crap, I gotta go."

"Why?" Gabriella asked.

"Because it's almost nine-thirty, and I gotta get home before my parents start worrying about me," I said.

"Oh," Gabriella said. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely," I said. I gave her one last hug and hurried out of the house. I drove home, hurriedly, and burst through the side door about five minutes before my parents would have deemed me late.

"You're almost late, son," Dad said.

"I was at Gabriella's," I said. "Sorry." I walked into the living room, to see mom and dad both sitting in there.

"Son, I think it's time we had a talk," dad said.

"Dad, if this is 'the talk', please don't give it to me," I said. "We've already had it twice at school, and Gabriella and I aren't doing that."

"Well, I was talking about lengthening your curfew since you have a real girlfriend, but now that you mention it…" he began. I sighed. "I'm just kidding, Troy."

"Good," I said. "Gabriella and I are responsible teenagers who– You're lengthening my curfew?"

"Yes," mom said. "To eleven on school nights, and one on the weekends."

"One-thirty," I said.

"Deal," mom said.

"Unless I call and tell you where I am and you say it's okay to stay there," I said.

"As always," she said.

"Fantastic," I said.

"Now, let's get back to this 'responsible teenagers' thing," mom said. I sighed again.

"Mom, Gabriella and I are not having sex," I said, very bluntly. "Even if we were, which we're _not_, I've had sex-ed at school, I'm not stupid, and you keep the condoms in the drawer furthest to the right under the counter in the bathroom." I turned and hurried up the stairs before what I'd said could sink into their brains, because when it did, man was I gonna get a lot of questions. i.e. how did I know where they kept the condoms, and why was I using them? It would be an awkward explanation, should I ever have to give it. I don't foresee that, though.

Once in my bedroom, I sat down next to my window and stared across the street through Chuckie's window. He was sitting on his bed, reading a book, like usual. I sighed, turning my back to the window and opening my cell phone. I polished the screen with my shirt debating whether to call or not. I'd been planning what to say all afternoon since we'd spoken. I closed the phone again and sighed, staring across the room into the hall. Dylan was standing in the doorway.

"What, Dylan?" I asked.

"Jeez, way to be nice," he said.

"I've had a very long, hard day," I said. "Is there something in particular you want?"

"No," he said. "Just saying hi."

"Hi," I said.

"Why aren't we closer?" he asked.

"What?" I asked.

"You know, like Sharpay and Ryan are really close. And Chuckie and Sarah. And Ruby and Sapphire," he said.

"We're not twins?" I guessed. "I don't know."

"But Becca and her sister are really close," he said.

"Becca doesn't have a sister," I said.

"Really?" Dylan said. I nodded. "Oh. Who was she talking about then?"

"Her best friend?" I asked. "Who knows? She's a girl."

"Why are they so difficult to understand?" he asked.

"C'mere," I said, motioning to the bed. Dylan walked into the room and took a seat on it, so I could lecture him on women. "Girls are the opposite sex. The point is you can't understand them. Sometimes they do it on purpose."

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I'm very tired. What I'm trying to say is that if you ever have problems, you know you can always come to me about them, okay?"

"Okay," he said. "And you too."

"Okay," I said, smiling. "Now get to bed."

"You're not my mommy," Dylan joked, but left for his own room anyway. I sighed once more and fell back onto his bed to stare at the ceiling.

"I hate my life," I said to himself.

Two days later, I still hadn't called Chuckie or talked to him at all, because he was still being a douche and ignoring me, as had become the norm. It was Friday night, and all the guys were getting together with their girlfriends to go for pizza. That meant me and Gabriella, Chad and Taylor, Jason and Kelsi, Zeke and Sharpay (who weren't technically dating, but not a lot of people actually knew that), and Jared and Sarah. The fact that some people (i.e. Chuckie and Ryan) would be left out just cuz they didn't have girlfriends, or anyone who could substitute for that purpose.

When we were finished with our pizza, we all went home. It was still pretty late, because we'd been to the arcade as well, where we "let" the girls win at Laser Tag. At least, that's what we said. The girls didn't think so. I stayed at Gabriella's for hours (her mom didn't have a limit to how long I could stay), until it really was time for my curfew. I drove home quickly so as not to be late and just made it. I collapsed into my bed, but something else caught my eye out his window. Chuckie's bedroom light was still on. It was like 2am! I discreetly peered out my window, and saw that he was looking out his too, although he didn't see me. I got my cell out of my pocket and dialed Chuckie's number. I saw him jump as it began ringing and scramble around his room to find it before it woke up his parents and they woke up and Sarah got in trouble for being still awake with a boy in her room. (To be fair, I could see they were playing some kind of board game, I think Monopoly, but it seemed to have extremely different rules than regular Monopoly, and I didn't look again.)

"This had better be an emergency," he said, sleepily. "I was sleeping."

"No you weren't," I said. "I can see you." He cleared his throat and sat on his bed.

"Okay, then, fine, I wasn't," he said. "I can't sleep with Sarah and Jared over there doing heaven knows what. Why are you calling?"

"I thought you weren't talking to me," I said.

"I'm not," he said. "But it's, like, 2am, I figure it's important."

"I have a recommendation for you," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"Now 19, track 13," I said. My phone informed me that my call had been lost, so I flipped it shut and waited five minutes until it rang again and immediately picked it up. "You like the song?"

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites," he said. The song in question was _Breathe (2AM)_ by Anna Nalick. Good song.

"Do you forgive me?" I asked.

"For what?" he replied.

"Asking out Gabriella and then being an ass about it," I said.

"Of course," he said.

"Good," I said. "Night."

"Night," he said. We both hung up, and then, we both got the same brainwave at the same time, and called each other back at the same time. Neither phone even rang, we just began to talk again.

"I didn't have sex with her," I said at the same time that Chuckie asked, "did you have sex with her?" We both started laughing.

"Why didn't you?" he asked.

"I don't really want to," I said. "I didn't even kiss her."

"Not for lack of trying, I'm sure," he said, laughing.

"Things keep interrupting us," I said. "But…I don't know."

"Do you love her?" he asked. I stopped and thought.

"I said I did. I thought I did," I said. "But if loving her is going to come between our friendship, then no."

"It won't," he said. "I promise." The translation was clear: I'll sincerely try not to be so insanely burning full of jealousy that she gets to be the one with you instead of me, and, should I fail, I won't let it show. Too much.

"Okay, then," I said.

"So do you?"

"Yeah."

"I figured as much," he said. "I don't like her."

"Why, because she's not you?" I asked, laughing.

"Yeah," he said. "I mean…"

"It's okay," I said. "We'll find you a good boyfriend."

"Thanks, but I think I can do it myself," he said.

"Just offering," I said.

"So what are you gonna do when Ryan comes out of the closet and you're married to Gabriella?" Chuckie asked.

"Uh…" I began. Brain fart. "Um…that hadn't occurred to me?"

"I bet," he said. "I guess I'll just have to date him myself."

"That's not fair!" I said.

"Troy, chill, I'm joking," he said. "I think."

"You better be," I said.

"I am," he said. "He's not really my type."

"Oh? And what is your type?" I teased.

"I tend to go for the tall basketball playing type," he said. "Blue eyes, brownish-blond hair, dazzling smile…"

"So, you go for the basketball-playing Edward Cullen?" I asked.

"Uh…no. He has topaz eyes. Ish," he said. "Although it's a coincidence that that's the book I'm reading. Again. I tend to like real people, you know…and blue eyes. Really. I might be waverable on the hair color, but honestly, blue eyes." Real as in non-fictional. I doubted it would matter to him if his boyfriend was a vampire. Although I was just teasing, and everyone knows he like Jacob better. Go figure.

"Okay, okay, I get the point," I said. "And you're just jealous cuz you don't have em."

"Yeah, and besides, when Ryan finally comes out, he'll probably be dating Chad," Chuckie said.

"Don't even joke," I said. "Chad would kill you."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "Worth a joke. Doesn't it seem like Chad is his type?"

"Not really," I said.

"Oh, you think he likes ruggedly handsome basketball players, and Chad just doesn't fall into that category," he said, laughing.

"Of course," I said. "Why wouldn't I think that?"

"I have no idea," he said. "Didn't you call to talk about Gabriella?"

"So I did," I said. "Why did you call?"

"Same reason," he said. "So…what happens when you and Gabriella get married, and so do Ryan and Kelsi, and Zeke and Sharpay, and Jason and Taylor, and me and Chad are just hanging around doing nothing?"

"There is no way that's gonna happen," I said. "Chad'll be with Sarah."

"Sarah will be with Jared," Chuckie said. "So, you're not gonna marry her?"

"Well, even if I do, there's no way you'll end up with Chad," I said. "You got a crush on him now?"

"No. Blue eyes, remember?" Chuckie said. "I'm just asking."

"And Jason and Taylor haven't dated since, like, I don't even remember," I said.

"That's not the point," he said insistently. "What happens when she wants to get married, and you can't because you don't…swing that way?"

"I do too!" I protested loudly.

"When have you ever?" he asked.

"All the time!" I said. "Like…" Never.

"Never," he said, echoing my thoughts. "Just admit it."

"Fine, I'm not gonna marry her," I grumbled. "But that doesn't mean I can't date her now. I mean, it's high school."

"Most girls are looking for future husbands in high school," he said. "And college. But a lot are high school sweethearts."

"This is too much information for 2:30 in the morning," I said.

"I'm just saying," he said. "Five years from now, when she's expecting a proposal, what are you gonna do? Marry her to keep her happy? Cuz that definitely didn't work in The Wedding Singer."

"The guy in The Wedding Singer was an asshole," I said. "He kept having sex with random women all the time behind Julia's back."

"And that's not the same as keeping the secret from her that you're gay?" he asked. "You can be classified as a Grade A Asshole just for not telling her."

"If I tell her, she'll break up with me," I said.

"So don't tell her," he said.

"Then I'm an asshole," I said.

"Now you're just going around in circles," he said.

"You did this on purpose!" I said. Chuckie smirked. I would have known, even if I couldn't see through his bedroom window, he did it loudly for the satisfaction of knowing that I could hear him.

"So, are you gonna marry her?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm going to marry her!" I said. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"No," he said. "I want to know why." The call was dropped again and I shut the phone and threw it across the room, straight into the pile of clothes Chad was accumulating as a second closet, though it'd been diminishing lately. I sighed and fell back into bed. It was almost 3 in the morning, but I had much too much on my mind to sleep.

"I hate my life," I said again.

**Part Dos.  
I Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You.**

–**In Which Samantha Attempts to Sing "I Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" With a Straight Face, because Drew Seeley Completely Ruined the Song For Her. Really.**

My cell phone rang loud and early the next morning. Or, early for a Saturday when I hadn't gone to sleep until 3am. "This had better be important," I answered it.

"Troy, something weird's going on," came the voice from the other side of the phone.

"I…uh…Sarah?" I asked. I hadn't been expecting her to call me…ever, let alone first thing in the morning.

"Yeah," Sarah said.

"What is going on that makes you see fit to wake me up at…" I fumbled wildly for an alarm clock before remembering I didn't keep one. "…uh…" I thought hard. "10am? Jeez, I'm tired."

"It's Chuckie," she said.

"What'd he do now?" I asked. "Jump off the roof? Wish he would."

"No, he's in the shower," she said. I had to laugh.

"He does that," I said. "Why did you call?"

"Right," she said. "He's singing in the shower."

"He does that too," I said, still laughing.

"I _mean_ he's singing weird songs," Sarah said. "You know, usually he just sings _La Vie Boheme_ or _Like a Virgin_ or something…"

"Yeah," I said.

"Or _Barbie Girl_…" Sarah continued.

"He does not," I said.

"Does too!" she said. I laughed harder, because that's funny, really. "But he's singing this song that I don't even recognize over and over again."

"What's it sound like?" I asked. There were sounds on the other side of the phone of being brought nearer to the bathroom and I could just make out the lyrics.

_I can't take my eyes off of you  
I know you feel the same way too  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
From the start, got my heart, yeah, you do  
Can't take my eyes off of you_

"I think it's a song from Twinkle Towne," I said vaguely. "How he knows it, you got me."

"What's it about?" she asked.

"All the characters are singing it about a different character in the show, and it goes badly," I vaguely attempted to explain. "It's almost the opening scene. Why's he singing it?"

"You think I wanna go in there and ask him?" she asked.

"I don't," I said.

"I know that," she said.

"Wait, the song sounds different now," I said, listening hard.

"He's alternately been singing that song and _Casualty of Love_ from the Wedding Singer," she said. "For some unknown reason."

"Jesus, how long's he been in the shower?" I asked.

"I don't know," Sarah said. "Like an hour."

"Why does he need such a long shower?" I asked.

"Maybe he's dirty," she said. "He's using all the hot water." I laughed.

"Are you sure?" I asked. She laughed too.

"No," she said. "But people don't typically take hour-long cold showers while singing their lungs out."

"Yeah, okay," I said. "I'll be over in a second."

"Thanks, Troy," Sarah said. We both hung up our phones. I grabbed some pants and put them on, along with a sweatshirt and hurried downstairs, subconsciously fixing my hair as he went. I rushed across the street, in the front door, and into the living room, where Sarah was sitting on the couch. "Hey."

"I kind of half-expected Jared to still be here," I remarked.

"No, he left a long time ago," she said. "People who stick around and listen to Chuckie sing in the shower for an hour should be given a medal."

"Tell me about it," I said. "Out of curiosity, why'd you call me?"

"Why do you _think_ I called you?" she asked. I had to give her that one and hurried upstairs to the bathroom to bang on the door.

"Chuckie, you've gotta stop singing, you're driving your sister insane!" I yelled.

"I'm not talking to you!" he yelled back. "Get out of my house!"

"Don't make me come in there!" I shouted.

"Go ahead," he challenged.

"I don't want to," I said. "But if you don't stop singing, I'm going to send a porcupine in there."

"Where would you get a porcupine?" he asked.

"I have my sources," I said. Chuckie, completely ignoring me and my threats (something I should get used to), went back to singing _Casualty of Love_. Sarah snuck up behind me.

"Where would you get a porcupine?" she asked.

"I have my sources," I said to her. Then I turned back to the bathroom and the problem at hand. "I'm gonna have sex with your sister right here, right now!"

"You wouldn't dare!" Chuckie said.

"And how do you know?" I asked.

"You can't get it up for girls!" he called, laughing. "Burn." I furiously blushed a deep, deep scarlet.

"You didn't need to hear that," I said to Sarah. "But that's…fine. And my life is at an all-time low." I sat down on the floor as Chuckie started singing a song that wasn't one of the ones Sarah had mentioned. This one was _Bombastic Love_ by Britney Spears. "Oh, no. He knows I'm here, he's singing our songs now."

"Let's just go…" Sarah said. She pulled me to my feet and we both went into Sarah's room and slammed the door satisfyingly loudly. We could just hear Chuckie yell, "You better not being having sex with my sister, Bolton!" and we laughed.

"Well, this has been a thoroughly embarrassing and pointless trip over here," I said, stretching out on the floor to stare at the ceiling. Sarah, unlike her brother, was very neat and clean, so there was lots of space to stretch out and lay.

"Could have been worse," Sarah said. "Jared could still have been here."

"So how long's it been for you and Jared?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "About a month."

"Why did you ever dump Chad?" I asked. It had been annoying me for a while.

"Misery loves company," she said, making a face. "Figured it was just as well."

"He was devastated," I said.

"Yeah, well, it's all for the best," she said. "He got Taylor, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "So your parents just let whoever you feel spend the night?"

"Well, so long as they don't find out about it, we can do whatever we want," she said.

"Wish my parents were like that," I said. "I can't even stay home alone all night."

"I know, Chuckie told me," Sarah said. "I thought it was funny."

"We didn't come in here to talk about my parents' letting go issues, did we?" I asked. "Cuz if we did, I'd rather still be in bed."

"No, actually, we came in here to talk about you," Sarah said.

"Do we have to?" I asked. We could hear Chuckie singing _Jessie's Girl_ by Rick Springfield in the shower. Now he was just singing whatever the hell songs he felt like.

"Yes," Sarah said. "He's in there singing over you."

"It's not like I broke up with him," I said. "He dumped me. And it was a while ago. Like two months ago. That's like forever in high school."

"And now you've just pissed him off," Sarah said. "Whoever dates first wins."

"Who comes up with these rules?" I asked. She shrugged. "So, I'm taking out Gabriella. We're not doing anything. And I shouldn't feel guilty. I'm free to do what I want."

"Sure you are," Sarah said. "But I think I've known longer than anyone…Chuckie loves you."

"No, he does not!" I argued. It's not true. And I might be a little bit in denial. But I like it and it's staying!

"Fine, he doesn't," Sarah said, making a calm down gesture "But he does like you an _awful_ lot."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "This was a failed idea from the start."

"No, it was admirable," she said. "It got dumb when you started sleeping together."

"This is a weird conversation," I said.

"No, just listen to me," she said. "…Oh, I guess I was finished."

"I know, I know, I shouldn't have slept with him. He's just like a friggin girl," I said. "Now he's 'emotionally attached' or some bullshit like that."

"Yeah, that sucks," Sarah said, laughing.

"Well, we all know _you_ don't get emotionally attached," I joked. "And, just an fyi, you might want to try closing your curtains once in a while."

"Ah, Perv!" she said, laughing. "No, but seriously, he really cares. And he just…doesn't want you to do something you don't want to do."

"I know," I said. "He's always…caring…or something."

"You like him too," Sarah said.

"A little," I said, shrugging. "So what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Sarah said, innocently. "How much do you want to hop in the shower right now?"

"A little," I said. "More to make the damn singing stop than anything else."

"Well, go," Sarah said. "Before he uses up all the hot water." I smiled at her and shook my head.

"Can't do that to Gabriella," I said.

"You do it all the time," she said. "It'll be just like the locker rooms. Except not." Shower orgy. Lol.

"You've convinced me," I said, sitting up.

"Really?"

"No."

"Give him what he wants one last time," she said.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked.

"Because if I don't get my shower soon, I'm going to feel all dirty all day," Sarah said.

"As you should," I said reprovingly. I stood up and went back into the hall, shaking my head at what I was about to do. "Chuckie?!"

"I'm not speaking to you," he replied, before picking up _Light My Candle_ from RENT again. I sighed.

"Don't make me come in there," I said, sighing once again.

"Go ahead," he challenged. "Oh, won't you light my candle?" Rolling my eyes, I opened the door to the bathroom, walked in, and shut it again with a satisfyingly loud shut. "Are you really in the bathroom?"

"Guess," I said. Chuckie jumped, evidently having really not been expecting that to happen.

"What did you do to my sister?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said. "Or what you call Friday night."

"Ooh, burn," he said. "Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Are you coming in here or not?"

"No," I said. "Because I have more sense than that. And loyalty to my girlfriend. But, if you don't stop singing and get the hell out of the shower so that Sarah can take one before the water goes cold, I will go down to the basement and personally make all the hot water go away. And I'll steal your towel."

"You wouldn't," he said.

"I would," I said. There was a pause and the water stopped running.

"Alright, give me my towel," he said. I held out a towel towards the shower. It disappeared, and the shower curtain pulled back, and Chuckie stepped out of the shower wearing nothing but the towel. And he knew _exactly_ what he was doing to me. I went to leave. "Wait a sec."

"What?" I asked, turning around to find Chuckie looking at me. He grabbed the arm and pulled me in for a long kiss on the mouth, just what he'd been wanting all morning. I have got to stop falling for that.

"Thank you, I really needed that," he said. I yanked my arm out of his grip and stormed out of the bathroom, furiously wiping my mouth on the sleeve of the sweatshirt I'd thrown on, only just then realizing that it was Chad's. I would have to remember to get a kick out of it when it got to returned to him.

"How'd it go?" Sarah asked.

"He's talking to me, but I'm not talking to him," I said.

"It's an improvement, at the very least," she said, as I continued his march back to my own house. When I got there, I opened my laptop, changed my away message to "Unless you're Gabriella, Sharpay, or Ryan, I'm not talking to you" and began banging my head against the keyboard. Nothing in my life could ever go right. What was wrong with me? I considered flinging an IM to Sharpay to talk to her, but that wasn't the best choice. There was a knock on the door of my bedroom.

"Jesus Christ, what?!" I shouted.

"Odd way to answer your door," Sarah said, walking in.

"Sarah, I'm really not talking to him anymore," I said. "Ever. I mean it."

"I know," she said. "I figured you might need someone to talk to. And all the hot water is gone anyway."

"I do," I said. "But you're not exactly the best candidate."

"Who else is there?" Sarah asked.

"Good point," I said. "So, I guess it all started the summer we were twelve…" I started just pouring out everything I needed to say to Sarah, and she actually listened. "…and then he kissed me and basically accused me of not being loyal to my girlfriend. I mean, I'm not supposed to take that lying down, am I?" Sarah took all of this in.

"I don't know," she said.

"Thank you, that's very helpful," I said.

"Here, I know what might help," Sarah said, unearthing a CD from her sweatshirt pocket.

"The Wedding Singer Soundtrack?" I asked, surprised.

"Yep," Sarah said. "The movie version. I know you've seen it, and I know you got the Broadway version, but I thought you'd like this. It's volumes one and two. I recommend _Love Stinks_ in particular."

"Sounds good," I said, taking the CD. "Thanks Sarah. For listening." My cell phone began to ring for about the thirtieth time. I looked at it and rolled my eyes. "Sarah, I'm gonna take this. Thanks for the talk." Sarah smiled, nodded, and left as I answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Is everything okay?" Sharpay asked. "I've been calling you for, like, an hour."

"Yeah, it's fine," I said. "I was just having a talk."

"With Gabriella?" Sharpay asked.

"No, with Sarah," I said.

"Sarah…Sarah _Brown_?" Sharpay asked, incredulously. "She's, like, the school slut."

"No, she's not," I said.

"Well, if she's not, I am," Sharpay said.

"You _are_ the school slut. She's the school _whore_," I said. "Big difference. But it's not true, just rumors, leftover from middle school. Before the Chad era."

"Oh, okay," Sharpay said. "What was she doing with you? Where are you?"

"Home," I said. "We were just talking."

"Okay," Sharpay said. "Just making sure you're alright."

"I'm fine, Shar," I said.

"How's Gabriella?" Sharpay asked.

"You tell me," I said. "I haven't talked to her since last night."

"But you two are alright, right?" Sharpay asked. "Because Twinkle Towne premieres this week."

"Yeah, Shar, we're fine," I said. "Do you really care this much about me, or is there some kind of ulterior motive?"

"Actually…" Sharpay said. "Well, it's nothing."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Do you have Zeke's number?" Sharpay asked, nervously. I laughed.

"Yeah," he said. "You want it?"

"Yeah," Sharpay said. I gave it to her. "Thanks, Troy, you're the best."

"You're gonna date him?" I asked.

"Uh…no," Sharpay said. "But I ran out of cookies, and I was hoping he'd come over and make me some."

"You want him to come over and bake you cookies, or _bake you cookies_?" I asked.

"Troy Bolton! Don't even jest! You know I'm just a slut," Sharpay said. Haha, she admitted it.

"Yeah, that makes it sound better," I said, laughing. "I know, you're the good one."

"Yes, I am," Sharpay said. "You should know better than that."

"Hey, that was combined effort," I said. "Which reminds me, I convinced my parents not to give me 'the talk'." Sharpay and I both giggled.

"Well, at least your parents want to give you 'the talk'," Sharpay said. "Mine just gave Ryan box of condoms and said 'practice safe sex, kids. We're off to Tahiti'."

"They didn't," I said.

"They did," Sharpay said.

"They didn't give you a box?" I asked.

"Nope," Sharpay said.

"And they left for Tahiti," I said.

"Yep," Sharpay said.

"Yeah, okay, but at least your parents can _afford_ to randomly go off to Tahiti every other day," I said. "I don't think my parents have ever even thought about it."

"Well, there are downfalls to being rich," Sharpay said.

"Such as…?" I prompted.

"I don't know, Troy, I'll think of one," Sharpay said. "I need to rehearse." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I can't let Ryan hear me being nice to you, he'll wonder what I'm on." I laughed.

"Okay, bye, Shar," I said.

"Bye, Troy," Sharpay said. We both hung up our cell phones. I set my phone on my desk and sighed. I looked out across the road, not really thinking hard enough to observe actions going on behind the windows, but just enough to observe the house in general. I sighed again.

"I hate my life," I said to myself.

**Part Three: The Downfalls of Being Rich.  
–In Which There Are Downfalls of Being Rich. Four of Them.**

"Troy, I thought of it," Sharpay announced, sidling up to me Monday morning.

"What?" I asked.

"The downfall of being rich," she said. "You never know whether people are being friends with you because you're you, or you have a lot of money."

"Sharpay, you could be dirt poor, and I'd still be your friend," I said, laughing.

"Thanks," she said. "So, where's Gabriella?"

"I don't know," I said. "I'm not her mother."

"It'd be a little weird if you were," Sharpay said, giggling. "Well, send her my way if you see her. If not, see you in homeroom." She giggled and skipped off to rejoin Ryan.

"What is she _on_?" Chad asked me, walking up behind me.

"I think Zeke's cookies are magical," I said. "You should ask what he's putting in them." Chad rolled his eyes, and we walked to our lockers and then to homeroom together.

"You know," Chad said, "I was thinking."

"Watch out," I joked.

"Very funny," Chad said. "No, but I was thinking, and I thought that maybe you and me should double more often. Just us."

"Just you and me?" I said. "I don't know, Chad…that might get weird."

"No, idiot," Chad said, slapping me on the shoulder for good measure. "You and Gabriella and me and Taylor."

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Because you and me are best friends, and Gabriella and Taylor are best friends, and it seems like something best friends should do," Chad said.

"Go on dates together?" I asked.

"…Yes," Chad said.

"Whatever you say, man," I said. The bell rang at that moment, and we both sat down in our seats as Ms. Darbus began the class.

"Troy," Sharpay said, as we were walking to our next class together, because we had it together.

"Yeah?" I said.

"There's another downfall to being rich," she said.

"And that is?" I asked.

"Worrying that people are going to rob you for all you're worth," Sharpay said. "While you're sleeping."

"But then Ryan will attack them with an umbrella, so it's all good," I joked.

"Well, there is that," Sharpay said, laughing.

"Shar, can I ask your advice?" I asked.

"Always," Sharpay said. "What?"

"Chad says he wants to double with me," I said. "Which means me and him, and Gabi and Taylor. What do you think?"

"Sure," Sharpay said.

"You think?" I asked. Sharpay nodded as we took our seats in history. "I thought so too, but I figured I'd get another opinion."

"If I get a boyfriend, would you double with us?" she asked.

"Of course," I said. "What are friends for?"

"If not this, I don't know what," Sharpay said, laughing.

"Me neither," I said, also laughing.

"So, Troy," Sharpay said, as we walked to the lunch room after history to meet up with Gabriella, who had been in some kind of science class. "I thought of another downfall of being rich."

"And that is?" I asked.

"Being deathly afraid of going poor," Sharpay said.

"You're deathly afraid of going poor?" I asked. Sharpay nodded. "Why?"

"Because!" she said. "Being rich is all I've ever known! If I'm suddenly not anymore, how would I live?"

"I don't know," I said. "I never really thought about it. I'd still be your friend, though."

"You better be," she said. "See you at rehearsal."

"Don't you mean homeroom?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," Sharpay said. "Bye." She waved and skipped away to join Ryan and Kelsi at their table, and I went in the opposite direction to join the basketball players and their girlfriends' at our table.

"Why won't she ever eat down here with us?" Zeke asked, dreamily staring after Sharpay.

"Why don't you ask Troy, he's only with her all the time," Chad joked. Zeke ignored this remark.

"Hey, if we got her to sit down here, maybe Kelsi would sit with us too," Jason said.

"Now there's an idea," Jared said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, guys, there's not even enough room at this table for ten."

"We'll kick you and Sarah out," Chad said. "You can go sit with the other guys." Jared smirked at him, and put his arm protectively around Sarah in exactly the same way Chad had always done. No joke, no exaggeration. Exactly the same way.

"And what about Ryan?" Gabriella asked.

"Ah, yes, the Evans twin packaged deal," Taylor said, rolling her eyes. "He can sit somewhere else. He's not with us."

"Taylor," I said, immediately jumping to his defense. I could see Gabriella wasn't very thrilled with Taylor's remark either. "That's not fair. Just because he doesn't have a girlfriend doesn't mean he should be left out. He's one of us, too. We're all in this together, guys."

"Okay, okay, okay," Taylor said. "You don't have to get weird. He can sit with us if he wants to."

"Maybe we should sit with them, instead," Zeke said, still staring over at Sharpay.

"That's a great idea," Chad said. "Then we wouldn't have to listen to you talk about how wonderful she is."

"She's absolutely wonderful," Zeke said.

"Dude, she's not," Chad said. "Trust me, I've dated her."

"Me too," I said.

"Me three," Jared said.

"Guess you're fourth," Chad said to Zeke, smirking.

"Okay, now let's look at this objectively," Zeke said. "She went out with you–" he pointed at me "–because you two are 'expected' to be together. She went out with you–" he pointed at Chad "–to make Troy jealous, and she went out with you–" he pointed at Jared "–to try and get you to quit the basketball team."

"And she's going out with you because you make magical chocolate chip cookies," Chad said. "Same difference. Sharpay doesn't know love, she's pure evil." Both me and Zeke were offended by this remark. Zeke went to speak on Sharpay's behalf, but I beat him to it.

"Chad, that was over the line," I said. "Just because she never liked you doesn't give you the right to start saying mean things about her. We're not in middle school anymore, you can't just pull her pigtails and get away with teasing her. We're almost adults here. We're old enough to talk about things reasonably. And if you're going to keep mouthing off Sharpay, I don't think you should sit at our table."

"I was just–" Chad began.

"You're always 'just'," I said. "You never think before you talk, that's your problem. Now apologize to Zeke for offending Sharpay, or go eat somewhere else." It reminded me of the time I'd bitched him out for not wanting to hang out with Chuckie, because he was gay. The oddest part was Chad's reaction this time. Like he'd do whatever I said, maybe some kind of leftover from being the captain of the basketball team, or just guilt for having stretched that friendship so severely the month before.

"Sorry, Zeke," Chad grumbled.

"Thank you," I said. "Now, what do you say, Zeke?"

"Apology somewhat accepted," Zeke said.

"Good enough," I said. "Now, can we please eat like normal human beings?"

"Fine," Chad grumbled. He continued in a barely audible grumble, "I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her."

"Yes, Chad, so do we all," Taylor said, "so just eat."

"So, Chad still hates you," I told Sharpay as we walked from homeroom to rehearsal. Gabriella was getting something from her locker, and Ryan was walking about a step and a half behind Sharpay.

"Yes, I know," Sharpay said.

"And you're okay with that?" I asked.

"Of course," Sharpay said.

"Okay, better question," I said. "Why?"

"If you wanna be like me, you have to have some people hate you, it's a fact of life," she said. "Right, Ryan?"

"I'm listening," he said.

"Okay," Sharpay said. "He's obviously not paying attention, but whatever." I had the funniest feeling all of a sudden that Ryan was staring at me, but didn't want to look, just in case.

"So, the fact that they call you the ice princess and say you're incapable of love and that you're pure evil doesn't bother you?" I asked.

"No," Sharpay said. "People who say that aren't worth my time. Especially Chad Danforth." Gabriella suddenly appeared at my left shoulder.

"What about Chad?" she asked.

"Sharpay doesn't care if he hates her," I succinctly summarized.

"Ah," Gabriella said.

"Of course, some of us just don't have that essence," Sharpay said, smirking.

"Are you talking about me?" Gabriella asked, slightly offended.

"No, Ryan, actually, but he's not listening," Sharpay said. Gabriella laughed, and the four of us went into the auditorium together. "But you know, there's the fourth and final downfall of being rich."

"And that is?" Gabriella asked.

"People hate you because you're rich," Sharpay said.

"You'd think people would love you because you're rich," Gabriella said.

"Well, that falls under the first category," Sharpay said.

"Never knowing if people are friends with you, or your money," I recited.

"Aha," Gabriella said.

"Okay, peoples, enough talk, rehearsal," Sharpay said. Gabriella and I both climbed onstage. Ryan didn't move. "Ryan!"

"Yeah?" he asked, looking up at Sharpay.

"Places, rehearsal," she said.

"Right," Ryan said, hurrying onto the stage.

Rehearsal that night was particularly grueling, after all, the premiere was two days away. Afterwards, the four of us met up with Zeke, who was waiting around with more cookies, and we all went out for pizza. I'm willing to bet double the regular amount that Ryan felt very much like an accessory the whole time.

"Chad was talking smack about you today," Zeke said.

"I heard," Sharpay said.

"She doesn't care," I explained. Sharpay shook her head.

"I care," Zeke said.

"That's cute. Thanks, Zeke," Sharpay said.

It was that night when I returned to my house around 10 that Chuckie finally caught up with me. I'd been blowing him off all day, refusing to listen to a word he said.

"I'm not speaking to you," I said. "Leave my house."

"No," Chuckie said.

"Fine, then I'm leaving," I said, going to leave my room, but Chuckie blocked the door. "Move."

"No, not until you listen to me," Chuckie said.

"Fine. What?" I asked, taking a seat on my bed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I crossed the line. I know you're loyal to Gabriella."

"I know," I said. "Why do I need your opinion?"

"Because I'm sorry," he said.

"That makes sense," I said, sarcastically.

"No, really. Forgive me, please?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Never."

"But I'm sorry," he said.

"And I could care less," I said.

"Technically, we're even now," he said.

"_Technically_, we're nothing. We're not even friends," I said. "So get the hell out of my house." He left my room sighing. I fell back onto my bed, feeling guilty. "Come back here." He immediately poked his head back into my room.

"Yeah?" he responded.

"Sorry," I apologized. "We are friends. And I accept your apology."

"Yay!" Chuckie said, bounding into my room to give my a hug. "See you at school tomorrow!" He was gone in a flash.

"He has gotten so weird," I remarked to myself.

"Troy?" Dylan asked from the hall.

"What, Dylan?" I asked.

"I'm thirteen, right?" Dylan asked.

"Yeah," I said. "You forgot how old you were?"

"No," he said. "When did you start dating?"

"When I was in kindergarten," I said, dully.

"Sharpay does _not_ count," Dylan said.

"Then I guess it was…" I stopped to think. "I don't know, I was, like, fourteen or fifteen. Why?"

"I kind of wanted to ask out this girl…" Dylan said. "Do you think I'm old enough?"

"I think you're old enough," I said. "When I was your age…well, I won't tell you."

"Okay," he said. "I think I'll wait."

"Wish I had," I said, dully.

"Thanks Troy," Dylan said, going back into his own room.

"I hate my life," I said, just for the sake of saying it. It seemed to be my mantra lately.

**Part Four: Why I'll Marry Her.  
–In Which We Find Out Why Troy Would Marry Gabriella and Why He Went Out With Her in the First Place.**

"You remember that one Friday night?" I asked Chuckie as we walked into school together sometime in early May. I had been giving it a lot of thought, and I'd finally come up with an answer.

"With the major argument? Vividly," Chuckie said. "What about it?"

"Well…nothing," I said. "It's nothing."

"What, you had sex with her?" he asked.

"What are you, some kind of sex-addicted freak?" I asked. "No! God, you're worse than Anthony Rapp in that really old movie about babysitting."

"Then what is it?" he asked. I was saved from responding by the arrival of a very upbeat Sharpay.

"Troy!" Sharpay called, skipping up beside me. I smiled to see her.

"Yes?" I asked.

"You'll never believe this," Sharpay said, singsongy.

"Probably not," I replied. "What?"

"Guess who's nominated for Prom King and Queen?" Sharpay said, eyes flashing with happiness.

"Us?" I guessed.

"No!" she said. "You and Gabriella!"

"Why are you so happy about that?" I asked. "Don't you not like her?"

"No, that's me," Chuckie said just loud enough for me to hear, causing me to smirk.

"I like her fine," Sharpay said. "And she's good friends with Ryan. Anyway, you and Gabriella are nominated! Isn't that the most? To say the least."

"The very least," Chuckie said. I smirked again. Gabriella and I, along with Sharpay and Ryan had watched Grease the night before.

"Yeah, it's great," I said. "Who are you going with?"

"Zeke, duh," Sharpay said.

"What about Ryan?" I asked.

"I don't know," Sharpay said. "I'm not in charge of him."

"Are you nominated too?" I asked.

"Yeah," Sharpay said. "Me and Ryan, unfortunately."

"Hey, to anyone who doesn't know you two, you look a lot more like a couple than brother and sister," I said.

"I know, we get that all the time," Sharpay said. "It's so weird. Anyway, toodles!" She skipped off.

"What is she _on_?" Chuckie asked me, as I exchanged my Friday books for my Monday books in my locker, before remembering that it was Wednesday.

"I think Zeke puts Love Potion in his cookies," I said.

"I thought they were illegal at Hogwarts," Chuckie said.

"Well, this isn't Hogwarts, is it?" I said, grinning.

"Thankfully," Chuckie said. "One of us would have killed her on accident by now and be facing life imprisonment in Azkaban."

"Pity," Chad said, coming up behind us. "Kudos on the nomination, dude."

"Thank you," I said. "Are you and Taylor nominated?"

"As if," Chad said. "I don't think anyone in their right minds would vote for us. The captain of the football team…Ricky whatever-the-hell-his-name-is-failed-freshman-year-and-now-is-somehow-the-captain-of-the-football-team-again and Rachel the cheerleading captain are nominated too."

"I hate him," Chuckie said.

"And I hate her," I said. "She's a real bitch."

"It's a good thing Zeke got out of that while he still could," I said.

"Well, he sure knows how to pick em," Chad said. "Saturday night. Can't wait!"

"Why?" I asked.

"Dude, it's prom night," Chad said, grinning.

"And?" I said.

"You know…prom night," Chad said, making facial expressions to attempt to convey what he meant.

"He's trying to get across that he and Taylor plan on having sex all night," Chuckie said.

"Oh," I said. "Did not get that, sorry."

"Could it be the night for you and Gabriella?" Chad teased.

"Ha," I said. "Double ha. In fact, triple ha."

"She's cool," Chad said. "That's all I'm saying."

"Then you have sex with her," I said. "C'mon, we'll be late for homeroom."

"Saturday night!" Chad called after us, as he stopped at his locker. "A night to remember!"

"It's gonna be a night…to remember…never, ever, ever forget…" Chuckie sang to himself very quietly and slightly absently, and I rolled my eyes.

"What are you on?" I asked.

"There's a possibility that I might have stolen a cookie or sixteen from Zeke," he said.

"So, who are you taking to the prom?" I asked.

"Do I have to take someone?" he asked.

"Well, _no_," I said. "But it doesn't hurt."

"I'd love to be able to bring my boyfriend," he said, looking pointedly at me.

"You don't have one," I said, as we walked into Ms. Darbus's homeroom.

"I could have one," Chuckie said. "How would you know?"

"I would know," I said. Justin, of course. I wondered if Chuckie had finally broken down and asked him out yet. I decided he hadn't. "Is Sarah going with Jared?"

"Probably," Chuckie said. "She's pissed at him at the moment, but I think she'll get over it. I think I'll ask Ruby if she wants to go…"

"Sounds like a great idea," I said. "Because to anyone who doesn't know you, it might seem like you guys have been going out for, like, four years."

"Yeah, well, they'll get over it," he said.

It wasn't until much later that afternoon, as I was playing some basketball at my house that I remembered I hadn't told Chuckie the real reason I'd brought up our argument. I put the basketball down, flipped open my cell phone (because I am lazy and damn proud of it) and called Chuckie's.

"Yeah?" he asked, answering it.

"Come on over, would you? We never finished what we were talking about this morning," I said.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," he said, hanging up the phone. Five minutes later, he was walking up the driveway. "Yeah?"

"So, you remember that really big argument we had a long time ago?" I said.

"Yeah," Chuckie said.

"Remember what the last thing you said to me was?" I asked.

"Uh…good night?" Chuckie guessed.

"Think harder…" I said.

"…uh…I want to know why," Chuckie said.

"Exactly," I said.

"You know why you're going to marry her, even though you obviously shouldn't?" he asked, a very wide grin forming on his face. "This should be hilarious. Okay…go on." He folded his hands in front of him, and donned a face like he was sincerely interested in the answer.

"I love her," I said. Chuckie stared at me for, like, ten seconds, then blinked, and pretended to clear his ears out.

"What?" he asked.

"I love her," I said.

"And it took you three months to come up with something we both already knew?" he asked. "You really need to work on your thinking skills."

"No," I said. "I knew that, but that's the real reason you marry people, isn't it? Love."

"I guess so…" Chuckie said. "Seems a little out there…"

"Jealous cuz you can't get married in the state of New Mexico?" I asked, sticking my tongue out.

"Little bit, yeah," he said. "But if love were the real reason behind marriage, why do so many get divorced? I mean, have you seen the divorce rate in this country?"

"Yeah," I said, "but those people aren't in love. They got married for other reasons. And those reasons aren't enough."

"Something along the lines of…love is all you need?" Chuckie said.

"Yeah," I said.

"So, interesting question," he said. I looked at him with a look that quite plainly said "you have my unwavering attention". "If love is all you need…and you love Gabriella, then what about…oh, what's that guy's name…um…Ryan?!"

"I…" I began, but my brain refused to compute, and there was a very long silence as Chuckie waited patiently.

"Let me end your brain fart," he said finally. "Girls are bad news."

"You really do deserve a toaster oven," I said, rolling his eyes. "I'll get you one someday, okay?" He laughed. "Well, plus I have to replace the one I broke."

"So…who do you choose?" he asked.

"Do I have to?" I asked. He nodded. "Ryan."

"Exactly," he said. "And why?"

"Cuz it's always been about him," I said, softly.

"Exactly," he said again. "And why is that?"

"Cuz I love him more than anything in the world," I said. "Even Gabriella."

"Precisely," Chuckie said. "So what are you going to do?"

"Go to the Prom with Gabriella, win Prom king, and then focus on getting Ryan," I said, decisively.

"Nice plan," he said, rolling his eyes.

"It is!" I said. Chuckie rolled his eyes again.

"I'm going home," he said, walking away. "They just released the High School Musical Concert Soundtrack." (**Hee-hee.**)

"Never heard of it," I called after him.

"It's good!" he replied. "Corbin Bleu's new album is out too."

"Who _are_ these people?" I yelled.

"Some people you really need to get in tune with," he yelled back. I rolled his eyes and continued back into my house.

"Troyyyyyyy," Dylan said, the second I got in the house.

"Dylannnnnnn," I replied. "See it's annoying."

"Why is the sky blue?" Dylan asked.

"Aren't you a little old to be asking that?" I asked. "You know why the sky is blue. Because it damn well feels like being blue. It's lonely, obviously, all the way up there in the atmosphere."

"What happens to you when you die?" Dylan asked.

"Oy," I said. "I don't think I'm old enough to explain that one. Why don't you ask mom and dad?"

"Mom said she didn't know and not to bother dad while he's working," Dylan said. "But you're smart. You know everything. What happens when you die?" I shook my head.

"No one knows, Dyl," I said.

"Troy, I know you know," Dylan said.

"I swear I don't," I said.

"Tell me!" Dylan said. "I'm old enough!"

"I hate my life," I said to nothing in particular before sitting down to explain to my brother that no one really knows because only dead people know, and dead people aren't alive and therefore can't tell what they know because they're dead. Which is a lovely thing to have to explain to your thirteen-year-old brother.

**A/N: Man, am I glad you guys are patient. This whole "procrastinating because I'm sad the story is coming to a close" thing gets old fast, so I came up with a better reason. I really want to see HSM3 before I set anything for the future. It might totally change something. Who knows? But this chapter's set in stone now, and then next one is done too. Unfortunately, the next chapter (23) is the last official chapter, although I plan on an epilogue, because I wrote something too funny to keep out of the story.**

**So, as always, I don't own anything, especially the Twilight series, which I just finished reading. Somehow my opinions on everything always gets mixed into these stories (i.e. I like Jacob better than Edward…), and also I don't own HSM or Harry Potter, or anything, like I said. Thanks for reading, and please review.**

**Samantha.**

**PS, Today, September 29, 2008, is my 16****th**** birthday. I am 16 years old today. Yay me.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three. Summer. (Repeat the word "summer" infinitely, until a school bell rings, or until a clock explodes…)  
–In Which There Is High School Musical 2, and Troy's Life Does Revolve Around It. AKA the HSM2 Chapter.**

"Are you excited?" Chad asked.

"Hell fucking yeah, it's the last day of school," I said.

"School's out, scream and shout!" Chuckie said.

"It seems like this school year has just dragged on," Zeke said.

"Didn't Sharpay say she'd start dating again this summer?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's why it's dragged on," Zeke said. "But one more Darbus class and she's all mine."

"And of all the classes to have last, that's the worst," Chad said. "I wonder if we chanted 'summer' we could make the clock get really big."

"Want to be a magician now?" I teased.

"No, a wizard. Like Harry Potter," he said. "It's Harry Potter summer."

"Chad, you're seventeen," Taylor said. "Don't tell me you're still obsessed with Harry Potter."

"You know it," Chad said.

"Have you _met_ Chad?" Zeke asked. "He thinks he _is_ Harry Potter."

"If the clock gets big, I'm Harry Potter, and you have to call me as such," Chad said. "Until the end of basketball camp."

The clock got ginormous. If we'd started earlier, it probably would have exploded. Which would have been awesome. But it didn't. To celebrate this fact, or maybe the fact that it was summer, we decided to sing about it! Really. Because, really, why not? I'll tell you why not. Cuz it's dumb. But it was funny at the end of What Time is It Part 2, when everybody's hugging, when Zeke opens his arms to hug Sharpay, and she just walks off. It was really funny. Because he had this entire idea that "school's out, so Sharpay and I can go out now!" Nope. Giggle. It's not that funny, but whatever.

"So Chad–" I began.

"Harry Potter," Chad corrected me.

"Harry Potter," I said, "we really have to call you Harry Potter, huh?"

"That is my name. Please don't wear it out," Chad…er…Harry Potter…said.

"You're still Chad to me," Taylor said. "Because I wouldn't date Harry Potter. He's a nutjob."

"Be that as it may," Chad said, "it was a deal." Taylor rolled her eyes.

"But, that's okay, because we're going to basketball camp today, we'll be gone for a week, and then we can stop calling him it," Zeke said. "It's a good deal. Unlike Sharpay. Who is evil." There was a pause. We never thought we'd hear those words come out of his mouth. "She's acting evil. I love her."

"Congratulations," I said. "At least someone does."

"Ooh!" Chad said. "High five!" I slapped him five, and Zeke frowned at us.

"Guys…once you get to know her…" he began.

"Zeke, I've gotten to know her," I said. "You forget who you're talking to. And, no, she's not all bad. But she's been even worse lately."

"It's cuz she doesn't like me," Gabriella piped up, not even looking up from her book as she said so. "She practically told me that my first day here."

"Yeah, she really doesn't like it when I go out with anyone, especially someone new and prettier than her," I said.

"Aw," Gabriella said, looking up finally to meet my gaze and smiling. "Thanks."

"That's what I'm for," I said. "Making you feel good about yourself. Now you and Taylor behave yourselves while we're gone to camp, okay?" Gabriella giggled. I used to love that giggle. Now it's just annoying. "And don't miss us too much. We've always got our phones on." She giggled again. "I'm serious!"

"She means to say that you've got a piece of hair sticking straight up from your head," Taylor said, reaching around Chad to fix it. "I think." I blushed and patted my hair down.

"You could say so," I said. "Who's driving?"

"Well, I don't have a car," Chad said, "and you don't have a car, and Zeke doesn't have a car, and–"

"I get it, none of us have cars," I said. "The bus should be here soon."

"No, I'm pretty sure we missed it," Jason said.

"Did we?" Chad asked, examining his thirty watches (or three, depending on your definition of the number system). "What time is it?"

"Summertime!" was the shout from around. Chad groaned.

"It's noon-thirty," I said. "We definitely missed the bus."

"No problem," Chuckie said. "I'll just call Justin. He should be heading down today anyway."

"Somebody has a crush on Justin," Zeke teased.

"It must be you," Chuckie replied, before walking about three feet away to conduct his phone conversation.

"Must be," I said, laughing. "Sharpay's just a big cover up." Chad started laughing as well. This could be the start of something fun. "But anyway, are you girls gonna get home alright?"

"Yes, Troy," Taylor said. "I'm driving her home. Safe and sound."

"Okay," I said in the same tone of voice she'd used. "Just checking."

"Wish I had a girlfriend," Zeke mumbled.

"Me too," Jason said.

"What happened to you and Kelsi?" I asked. Jason shrugged.

"Nothing ever really happened," he said.

"I guess you two are the only ones who haven't gotten around," Chad said, looking at our women.

"I'm new," Gabriella said, by way of explanation. Taylor didn't say anything. "And I dislike the term 'getting around'."

"No, but really, Sharpay dated us two," I said, pointing between myself and Chad. "And sort of Zeke. And Kelsi's dated Zeke and Jason. And Taylor…"

"Yeah," Taylor said, cutting me off.

"But if you'd lived here your whole life like us, you'd probably have gone out with at least half of us, like Sharpay," I said. "You're just that cute."

"Aw," Gabriella said.

"Yeah, have transportation, will go to camp," Chuckie announced. "Justin should be here soon."

"Awesome," Chad said.

"Or maybe it's Chad," I said. "I mean Harry Potter."

"Dude," Chad said. "Seriously."

"Well, you have one serious ex," Chuckie said. "And you do act a little fruity."

"I do not act like a fruit," Chad said. "Take it back. And that one ex was your sister, who very _viciously_ dumped me for absolutely no good reason at all. I think we'll finish this conversation later." Chuckie's gaze at Chad hardened into a glare at the mention of Sarah.

Eventually, after much annoying conversation, and a pretty squished car ride, we ended up at camp. It was a different camp than before, being it earlier in the summer, it was for older grades, Juniors and Seniors. But it was a lot of fun. It was the same literal camp, just with different skill levels. Somehow the five us ended up in a cabin with Justin (I'm sure that wasn't on accident). Gabriella hadn't called for three days, although I'm not sure if I just missed it when she did. This is what Chuckie had to say on the subject.

"I may be lots of things, Troy; gay, Catholic, Jewish, short, brunet, anti-Bush, pro-choice, and cell phone retarded, but there is one thing I am not, and that is stupid," he said. "So stop pretending to be in love with Gabriella, and ask out Ryan!" Justin nodded helpfully.

"Okay, since when did you know everything about my personal life?" I asked Justin.

"Since I told him," Chuckie said. "And it's so obvious you're just playing her. So stop it already."

"How do you know?" I asked. "How would you know? You don't. So stop messing around with my life."

"Troy…" he began again.

"Not an experiment…blah, blah, blah, I got it," I said. "It doesn't matter. I love Gabriella. Leave me alone." I walked out of our cabin, letting the door slam shut behind me.

"Troy," Justin called after me.

"What?" I asked. I was thoroughly pissed off by this point, and you just don't mess with me when I pissed off. Justin caught up with me and pulled me over to a tree.

"Don't treat him like that," Justin said. "Just because he dumped you, doesn't mean he doesn't still like you."

"I know that," I said. "But this isn't even about that. It's about my girlfriend. And I love her. So cut me some fucking slack, okay?" Justin looked shocked for a second. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "And if you like Chuckie so much, why don't you date him then?" I stormed off very Sharpay-like before words returned to him. And that was the end of that.

To add insult to West's injury from basketball season itself, we creamed them again in the camp championships. Cuz we're that awesome. Eat _that_ West High Knights! So, we all came back from camp, and got to stop calling Chad "Harry Potter" because it really was starting to get annoying. The phone rang. Several times, but once in particular.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hi Troy," Sharpay said.

"No, Sharpay," I said.

"I didn't even ask yet," she said.

"I'm just saying no. Whatever it is, the answer is most likely no," I said.

"Well, fine," she said. "But you missed my birthday."

"I was at camp, sorry," I said. "Did you get a jet?"

"No, jet's 18th. I got a yacht," she said.

"We live in New Mexico," I said.

"It's not here," she said. "It's at our Malibu house."

"Congratulations," I said. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, I got a new dog," she said. "Because Ivana died. This one's name is Boi."

"Boi?" I asked. "Okay, whatever."

"So, I'll see you around, then," she said.

"Yeah," I said. "Maybe." She hung up her phone, and I hung up mine. "She's so weird."

The next day, I got the call from Fulton offering me (and in turn the rest of the Wildcats) jobs at Lava Springs. I was all like "awesome but hey…how about this two hundred or so other people I know that need a job for the summer and can also double as a really awesome chorus for my dumb songs?" Fulton said that was okay, because the country club didn't have its own chorus and probably was incapable of otherwise finding one. I'm being sarcastic, of course, he didn't actually say that, although it would have been cool if he had. I walked over to Chuckie's to tell him the good news (i.e. he had a summer job) but the front door was locked. I heard noise, so I circled around back, and found Sarah doing something that might have resembled cheerleading on their back porch. She had headphones in her ears and her eyes closed. She was rocking out. I climbed the stairs as quietly as I could, not that she would have heard it if an elephant had crashed into them, and took a seat on the bench, to wait patiently for her to finish.

"U.G.L.Y, you ain't got no alibi, you ugly...you ugly," she was singing. I stifled a chuckle. When she was just about finished, she opened her eyes to do something – maybe a jump – spotted me, stumbled, and fell over. Her iPod went skittering away across the porch, and she blushed violently.

"Aw, I thought you didn't _have_ a crush on me anymore," I teased.

"I don't," she said, entirely unconvincingly, as she picked up her iPod, wound her headphones around it, and set it down on the railing. "Anything in particular you want?"

"Chuckie around?" I asked.

"No, he's with _Justin_," Sarah said. "Who I've never met, so I'm beginning to think he might not be real." I laughed. "No, like when he was obsessed with Twilight, he'd say he was going to hang with Edward or Jacob, or when he was obsessed with the Gossip Girl series, he'd talk about Nate or Blair… and lately he's been saying he's hanging with Harry Potter, so I'm seriously doubting that 'Justin' exists. But I can't figure out what he's from."

"Justin actually does exist," I said. "He's…not important. Do you want a job this summer?"

"Should I be suspicious?" she asked.

"Uh, there was a guy on the phone, and he wants to give the Wildcats jobs," I said. "It sounds like a good deal to me."

"Good deal," she said.

"So, I hear you're banging JJ Black," I said, casually.

"And by 'hear' you mean 'happen to observe through the window while you were spying on my brother'?" Sarah asked. "And don't use the word bang. Because I'm not. I gave that up."

"Too cheerleaderyish?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's what they all do. I just want to be different," she said sarcastically.

"So, seriously, JJ?" I asked.

"No," she said. "I'm still dating Jared. I think." She pulled a face like she honestly couldn't remember.

"Okay," I said. "Never mind, then. It's just…you were dancing together at the end of school."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean anything," she said. "Sharpay and Ryan dance together."

"Yep, just got weird," I said. "Let's not mention this again."

"Good deal," she said. "Work starts on Monday?"

"Yes ma'am," I said. "Pass it on, won't you?"

"Bet on it," she said, grinning. I left. I could actually honestly care less who she was banging, but I didn't know very much about her, and it made a talking point. She sort of became our friend by osmosis when she started dating Chad. She was a bit Sharpay-like before that. Beats me why he wanted to date her in the first place. I'll attempt not to complicate the story by alleging that she still wasn't over Chad. So, I didn't say that, and you didn't hear it. So, where was I? Right. Work began Monday morning. Went off with a bang, or at least a splash and a song. Eventually (Wednesday), I was offered a real job (secret courtesy of Sharpay, although it was kind of obvious) and the Wildcats got mad at me. I still don't understand it. Ryan promised to explain it to me later if I still remember then. Fulton offered me the job, I said yes, but I show up to work, same as everyone else.

"You get a speck of dirt of your pants and someone dry cleans them!" Chad yelled in the kitchen the day after the baseball game (Thursday) that I accidentally ditched.

"You would do the same thing if–" I began.

"If we were as good as you?" Chad interrupted.

"I didn't say that," I said. I'd never said that. Everyone had thought it, even I'd thought it at some point or another, but I'd never said it. It was one thing you'd never hear out of my mouth without a sarcastic overtone.

"You didn't have to," Chad said.

"And neither did you," I shot back. Each of the words he said shot through me like an ice cold knife to the heart.

"We didn't vote you captain cuz of your jump shots," Chad said. I was aware of everyone in the kitchen watching our argument, silently rooting for Chad. "We did it cuz you're the guy who usually knows what's up. But I guess things change."

"You think you got me all figured out? Well, I don't think so. And I don't answer to you," I said.

"Then maybe you better start answering to yourself," Chad shot back. "We have been like brothers since preschool. If I don't know who you are anymore, then who does?" Fulton interrupted our argument. I tried to talk to anyone who would listen, but the only response I got was very similar variations on "I'd tell you to go to hell, but I work there, and I don't really want to see you every day." So I stormed out to the pool. I had member privileges, and I was going to abuse them. Or at least bitch out Sharpay. Which is hard.

"Sharpay!" I called. She turned to look at me and immediately cleared the chaise next to her of its Sharpette (Lea, I think) and made me sit. She was fully aware that Gabriella could see us, but obviously didn't care. What had gotten into her in the one week we'd been separated for the summer, I had no idea. She was still normal on the last day of school, I thought. She didn't have a problem with Gabriella because Gabriella was friends with Ryan. I guess her scheming nature finally caught up with her as Zeke slipped away, she ran out of cookies, Ryan started ditching her to hang out with Chad (shudder)…and it all fell into place. "Shar, I don't know what _game_ you're playing, but it's not cool."

"I'm not playing a game," she said innocently. "Sing with me in the talent show, get a scholarship to college." "Be my boyfriend" was relatively unspoken but understood. Now I understood what my friends were talking about, they thought I was actually interested in doing that. I looked over the pool at Gabriella, who immediately looked away from me.

"It's not going to work," I said to Sharpay. "Gabriella's my girlfriend, and I love her. So, I can sing with you, but I'm not dating you." Sharpay frowned.

"I didn't ask you to–" she began.

"It was implied," I said, cutting her off. "And it's not going to work." She didn't have anything to say to that, and I had to go back to work, so I left. We had rehearsal later, which I was tempted to skip, but I had promised. And jeez, thinking about that damn wedding again, that was bad. I hadn't thought about it in years, but it was frightening. Instinctively, I ran out to the basketball court. And again I found myself incapable of making baskets. Well, screw that, I thought. I went back to the clubhouse, where I found all the Wildcats rehearsing their number with Ryan. It was cool. Until I saw Ryan and Gabriella. Both of them together. It was like an overload. I had to leave. It may have been jealousy I was experiencing, something I didn't get too often, but I had to leave. Go somewhere, run away. Back out to the basketball court. There was almost enough jealousy in the air to sing. Almost. I could tell, it was coming.

That evening (Friday), Gabriella beat me to the song and broke up with me. If I hadn't been very sad, I would have been angry at Sharpay. None of my friends would talk to me. None. I couldn't make baskets. None. The next morning (Saturday) at work, Kelsi told me why. And (warning: the whole story has had jokes leading up to this moment) I sang a song entitled "bet on it" while dancing around a golf course like an idiot. Finally got that over with so I didn't have to worry about it anymore. Unfortunately, that meant I had to go do some stuff. Went to see Fulton, got my kitchen job back. Had to quit Sharpay, she freaked, what's new...blah, blah, blah. Okay. That night was the talent show. And I made up with Chad. And the rest of everyone else. And Ryan. And, truth be told, if anyone else had asked me to sing with Sharpay, I wouldn't have. But it was him and so I did. Which ultimately made up my decision to give up Gabriella, and start pursuing Ryan himself. Unfortunately, he and Kelsi had other plans. I went onstage, began singing, and Gabriella showed up. Oh joy. But she was so beautiful and sweet and nice that I just couldn't not make up with her and kiss her in the sprinklers. Fireworks went off, both figuratively and literally. And there were pairs of people frolicking in the sprinklers. Celebratory measures were taken in the form of a pizza party in the dining room.

"So, we're all good, right?" I said to my team, toasting with a can of Pepsi. "First week of work didn't go too badly."

"Hell yeah we're good," Chad said. "Pizza can fix any problem."

"That was all Ryan, by the way. I have nothing to do with the pizza," I confessed. Chad frowned.

"That's okay," he decided. "It's still pizza." I laughed. The team dispersed. Chad and Taylor, Jason and Kelsi, Zeke and Sharpay, Jared and Sarah, Michael and Martha, etc, etc, etc, leaving me and Chuckie standing there. I had no idea where Ryan and Gabriella had gotten off to. But there were more pressing matters at hand.

"We're good right?" I asked, apprehensively.

"Good?" he asked. "Are you kidding me?"

"Great?" I asked hopefully.

"Wrong direction," he said.

"We're not good," I said. He nodded. "Why? You said you wanted me to be happy. I'm ecstatic."

"You kissed her!" Chuckie hissed at me quietly.

"And?" I asked. "We've been dating for six months. It was bound to come eventually." Chuckie looked like he was about to have a fit trying to find the right words to express himself. It turned into a long grunt gesturing wildly around the room at me, at Ryan, at Gabriella (who was to be found near Taylor) and then back at me. "Hey!" He stopped.

"What?" he asked.

"I kissed a girl, and I liked it!" I said. "What's it to you? You're not my boyfriend. Never will be again." Ouch. Too low. That was really mean. True, but mean. I definitely didn't have to say it.

"Justin was right," Chuckie said. "Never befriend the exes." He went to walk off, but I caught up to him and spun him around. He'd grown a little bit, and we were closer in height than we'd been before.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked. "You're my best friend. And you know that. I thought we were keeping the ex stuff separate from the friend stuff. You know, best friends forever. How come it's suddenly annoying you so much? You broke up with me."

"That doesn't mean I stopped liking you," he said.

"I didn't stop liking you either," I said. He rolled his eyes.

"You never liked me," he said. "You just did it because I was offering and you can't function without a relationship."

"Can too!" I protested. He laughed. I probably looked ridiculous.

"You can not," he said, his voice quaking with laughter. "When have you ever?" I thought, but didn't come up with anything much. "And one is generally not enough for you?"

"Hey," I said, thudding back into reality. "I can have just one."

"I know, I know," he said. "I know." He went to walk away.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Ryan's breaking out the beer. And he's even hotter when he's drunk," Chuckie said, walking away.

"Are we good?" I called, walking quickly to catch up with him.

"We are excellent, in fact," Chuckie said. "Best friends forever."

"Keep your hands off my..." I trailed off. Chuckie raised an eyebrow, interested in the end of that sentence as we walked to the poolside bar. "...Ryan."

**The End.**

**A/N: Compared to previous chapters, I know this one is kind of short, pathetic, and Dylan-less. And I'm very, very sorry. But I didn't write the movies, because if I did, when Gabriella moved to Albuquerque, she would have fallen in love with Troy, he would have been all "Back off, girlfriend, I'm **_**so**_** gay" and she would have thrown herself off the top of the science club roof, resulting in comical injury (i.e. fractured spleen), and then lived through to the second movie, in which she would stage the perfect way to– You know what? It doesn't matter. Because I didn't write it, and don't own it, so it's not gonna change. Nor do I own the song "I Kissed A Girl".**

**Anyhow, that's the last chapter for now. If you're really lucky (and you might be. There's a possibility) I might have an epilogue or two to put up sometime next week… At least one, a Board of Secrets epilogue. Maybe a second one, a HSM3 epilogue. Not to get your hopes up.**

**Well, thanks for reading, and please review! Reviews make me happy! (As do midnight showings of HSM3!! Yayz! I can't wait for Friday, October 24.)**

**Samantha.**


	24. Epilogue 1: Chapter 24

**A/N: Yay, first epilogue! It's really long. And I'm sorry. They keep fluctuating, don't they? Long, short, long, short, long, short...  
Anyway. Read. Please?**

**

* * *

Epilogue One: Chapter 24.**

–**In Which Troy Writes His Own Version of The Board of Secrets, a Tale by Ryan Evans.  
If You Haven't Read The Board of Secrets, To Which This Story Is A Prequel (as noted in the first chapter), You Will Be Really Confused By This Chapter. So, Take the Extra Time And Read It. And Leave A Review or Twenty Three.**

Well, I was there, at the party. I was laying on a couch, because, quite frankly, the guys were tiring me out, and Gabriella was annoying me, because she decided to dump me (again) because apparently _I_ was being an asshole. Go freaking figure. Sharpay and Zeke were hanging out with some of Sharpay's old cheerleader friends on the other side of the room. My eyes fell upon Ryan. He was looking at me, and I didn't care. Then, he got up, went over to Gabriella, and before you could say likity-split, they're, like, making out, or whatever. That wasn't going to fly, but unfortunately, I was way too tired to do anything about it except watch. So watch I did. Then Gabriella whispered something in Ryan's ear, they both giggled, and they ran into the hall, and up the stairs. Trying to make me jealous. Well, I was, but not for the reasons you'd think. Well, you know the story.

So, the next morning, I woke up, still on the couch, completely hung over, and totally annoyed. Then the night before came rushing back. Sometimes it doesn't, this time it did. I went into the dining room, where most of the Wildcats were sitting around eating breakfast or trying not to throw up.

"Guess what your girlfriend did last night?" Michael said to me. I grunted in response.

"She slept with Evans," Jared supplied. I grunted again. I didn't care.

"Aren't you pissed? I know if he slept with _my_ girlfriend, I'd be angry," another one said.

"You don't have a girlfriend," yet another one supplied.

"Shut up, my head hurts," a cheerleader said.

"Okay, everyone, quiet," I said. "And pass the Toaster Strudel." They didn't shut up. Nor did they pass the Toaster Strudel.

"You know, I don't blame her," another cheerleader said. "I mean, if _my_ boyfriend didn't put out, I think I'd dump him and sleep with someone else too." I sighed.

"Hey! I _am_ your boyfriend!" a guy shouted.

"Yeah, well, let you be fore-warned," the cheerleader replied.

"This isn't helping," I said, going to leave the room with my toaster strudel, but Ryan walked in at that moment, and the Wildcats started cheering. I glared around the room, not necessarily at _him_, but mostly at the thought of what had gone on. Everyone cleared out and we started arguing, then he left. My fly was _not_ down. He was just…being an ass. I went into the hall, where every single Wildcat seemed to be looking to me for a verdict. "We're just letting it go. It was a drunken mistake. Okey-doke?" The Wildcats started talking amongst themselves. Gabriella appeared on the stairs and the Wildcats started cheering again.

"Put a sock in it," she said, pushing her way through the crowd. "Troy, I'm so sorry."

"Hold on a sec," I said to her. Then I turned to the Wildcats in general. "Okay, get lost. Sharpay doesn't want you around all day." The crowd immediately dispersed, like I was the king of everything and if they didn't do what I said, I'd be off with their heads. Which is _so_ not true. I pulled Gabriella into the dining room.

"Troy, I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to… I mean, I'm not…I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I forgive you," I said.

"Really? Why?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Because I really believe that neither of you really meant it. As long as you're really sorry."

"I am sorry," she said. "But you should know–"

"I don't have to know anything," I said. "I forgive you, and we're good. Right?"

"Yeah, but I–" she began.

"Shh," I said. "I have to go and forgive Ryan now. See you later, right?"

"Uh, sure," she said. I left the room in time to see Chad disappear at the far end of the hall around the corner. I was intrigued, and decided to follow him. He disappeared through a door to the outside, and I followed at a distance. When I got outside, I heard Chad and Ryan talking inside a hedge.

"You're not an ass," Chad was saying. "Troy's an ass. And Gabi's a bitch. You don't deserve all the crap everyone gives you. And if you say you're straight, I'll believe you." I almost laughed.

"I am straight, I guess, Chad," Ryan said. I could feel my heart sink. It was always the one variable that was missing in my plans, but we always knew he couldn't be completely straight. "I mean, I've had a few… wayward thoughts, but hasn't everybody?"

"Um, let's not talk about that," Chad said. "That's a little TMI, dude." I stifled another laugh. It was laughable. I could picture Chad's face. The wind started picking up, and I couldn't hear the next few words, but when it died down again, Ryan was talking.

"The truth is, I can't tell," he said. "I have no clue if I'm gay or not. I've never really had a girlfriend, but I've never had a boyfriend, either, and as far as I can tell, the only person I find attractive at the moment is, well, Troy." I giggled quietly. I felt giddy. _He likes me. He likes me. He likes me._

"Well, I've got to say that it's about time," Chad said.

"What?" Ryan asked. Chad proceeded to tell him about the bet we'd had on since the seventh grade, misquoting it as the sixth grade. Then, Ryan proceeded to explain that these feelings weren't "feelings" they were just thoughts that I was hott. I didn't listen to the rest of the conversation. I went to go back in the house, but they discovered me, so I pretended to be just coming out of the house.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" I asked.

"Well, this has been fun! But as you can imagine, I have much to attend to, what with the wizard's unexpected departure, so, if there are no further questions…" Ryan said. I stared, confused.

"What?" I asked. "I-What? There's a Wizard?" The quote itself sounded vaguely familiar, perhaps something Sharpay had once said to me.

"The Wizard of Oz, dumbass," Ryan said, trying to push past me into the house, but I stopped him without difficulty. So, to make a long conversation short, I forgave him, and we went into the house, and into the room with all the quaint little figurines. And of _course_ I know the word "quaint". I may be a basketball jock, but I'm not completely useless. Sharpay congratulated Ryan for coming out of the closet, so to speak, I guess.

"Granted, I have to say, I always thought it would be the other side," Sharpay said. Quite frankly, I had too, but I mean, c'mon, he was _drunk_. I think even I'd sleep with her with that much alcohol in my system. Really.

"Okay. Thanks, guys. For, uh, being so supportive?" Ryan said. "Although, I have to ask, if I had come down on the other side, would be still be here having this conversation?" I wanted to smile, nod, and scream "YES!" but, in lieu of doing that, the only face I could manage was a completely straight one (irony…), as if I would accept it, but not exactly the party I had planned in my head. It came out that Taylor took Gabriella home. Kelsi started talking.

"You know, you really can't blame Gabriella," Kelsi said. "I mean, she was a slightly drunken horny teenager, and, so it's not even a big deal, right? I mean, well that and the whole other thing. I mean, it was really mean, but I understand it. And, you know, it's not really even a big surprise, given where she's coming from." Ryan hadn't been paying attention. There was some more talking, and then we all left.

After dinner, I was hanging out with Sharpay in the dining room. The reason we were giggling so badly, was that we were playing with the aerosol whipped cream from dinner. If you had bothered to look around, you would have seen that we got it everywhere. I mean, _everywhere_. Poor Evans staff.

"Ryan's going to be mad if he sees this," Sharpay said.

"Oh, yeah," I said.

"Should probably–" she said.

"No problem," I said. Sharpay giggled and began eating some whipped cream off my nose. "Don't do that!"

"I could eat it off somewhere else, if you wanted," she said.

"No, Sharpay," I said. "I said it before, and I mean it. No, no, no." She sighed, and we went into the hall, her hanging off my arm. I noticed Chad and Ryan walking down the hall, and cleared my throat quickly. Sharpay and I may have been BF4Ls, but that was a secret we were keeping on the DL. "Chad, ready to go?"

"I guess," he said, halfheartedly.

"Bye, Troy," Sharpay giggled. She left up the stairs. Ryan basically told us to leave the house, lest we not show up for work the next morning. It wasn't that funny. We left out the front door, and got into my truck.

"What was going on with you and the wretch?" Chad asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"Troy," Chad said.

"Nothing!" I said. "C'mon. I don't like her. What's up with you and Ryan?"

"Nothing!" Chad said. "And I am insulted that you would ask such a thing." I laughed. "Troy, if you hate them so much, how come you were at their house all day?"

"I don't hate them," I said. "Shar's just a little…annoying, I guess. It's weird being friends with them again."

"Enh," Chad said. "It's okay. It's not my favorite thing in the world."

"And that is?" I asked.

"Sex with Taylor, of course," Chad said.

"That was a little more than I needed to know," I said.

"Oh, come on, Troy, we all know you're not the little prude you pretend to be," he said. "But you really need to get yourself laid."

"I've…been…laid," I said, unconvincingly.

"Uh-huh," Chad said, totally not believing it. It was true, kind of. "What's her name?"

"Um…" I began.

"Troy, you don't have to lie to me," Chad said. _Yes, yes I do_, I thought. _If you knew the truth, you'd never let it go._

"It was…Sapphire Eaton," I said.

"The cheerleader?" Chad asked.

"Yeah," I said. "But she didn't want to tell people." I was totally lying. But you knew that.

"Okay," Chad said. "Good for you. She's hot."

"I know," I said. "Can we drop this now?"

"When was it?" Chad asked.

"Summer after sophomore year," I said.

"The summer we went to Florida? Before or after?" he asked. I sighed.

"Before," I said.

"Nice," Chad said. "So, why won't you just have sex with Gabriella?"

"Chad, drop it," I said.

"Okay, okay, okay," he said.

Next day, I told Chad that I wanted to talk to Ryan. Chuckie came to see me at lunch and told me that Ryan and Kelsi were dating.

"They're what?" I asked.

"Dating," Chuckie said.

"Okay. Why?" I asked.

"I don't know everything," he said.

"Yes, you do," I said. "Why??"

"I dunno," he said. "Probably he's…using her to see if he's straight or not."

"He's not, though," I said.

"Well, _we_ know that," Chuckie said. "_He_ doesn't know that." Made sense, but I had to go and teach golf to kids. Oh the joy.

Ryan came out to see me during my break and we talked on the eighth fairway for a while. I wanted to know what was going on with him and Gabriella.

"Well, I was just trying to do the right thing," he said. "I was being nice. When your twin sister cuts you out of the show and instead starts singing with Mr. Troy Bolton, big shot, scoring his touchdowns–"

"I don't even play football," I interrupted.

"Whatever," he said. I laughed, because I knew he knew that and was just trying to annoy me. "When that happens, it's common courtesy to join up with the big shot's other people, because he bailed on them, and you be nice and coordinate their number, because, quite frankly, the big shot's other people are not so good with the rhythm and the keeping in time. I was being _nice_, Troy. Yes, I'm sure it comes as a big surprise. I am capable of being nice. It might also come as a shock to you that I have a first name, as well. It's Ryan, in case you'd forgotten. Does that answer your question?" I ignored his allegation that I didn't know his name, and we talked some more about Gabriella.

"So, I heard about you and Kelsi," I said. "Good for you. I've been waiting for that to happen for a while." I hadn't, but there was a bet, so I kind of was. I actually quite frankly hoped he'd never get together with her. I hoped he would get together with me. That's selfish, I know, but what could I do?

"Um, thanks, Troy," he said. "So, you never thought I was gay." _Shit, cornered._

"Um…well, yes and no," he said. "Yes in the way that, well, look at you. Really. But then again, no, you just couldn't be." I made up some flimsy excuse about beer vs. gay guy drinks, but it really didn't mean anything. We talked some more, and we decided to play the baseball game together on Thursday.

The next few days went by slowly. I had a conversation with Chuckie on Tuesday afternoon, on the way home.

"You _have_ to tell him," Chuckie was saying.

"I'm not going to _tell_ him. You want me to get killed?" I asked.

"What are you so afraid of?" Chuckie asked.

"Rejection, duh," I said.

"You're Troy Bolton. You already know he thinks you're hot," Chuckie said. "We _know_ he's gay, we _know_ he thinks you're hot, and we _know_ that the day you randomly bet he'd admit feelings for you is on Saturday. You can add."

"What, you think I should tell him on Saturday?" I asked.

"If you do, you win a bet," Chuckie said. "Can't be anything wrong with that. Twenty bucks says Chad's doing the same thing with Ryan."

"No, I'm not going to bet that," I said. "Cuz you're probably right, and I don't wanna lose money."

"Hey, you know what other bet is coming up?" he asked. I shook my head, and kept driving down the road. "The one where Kelsi tells Ryan she loves him."

"Oh, yeah," I said. "That's tomorrow, isn't it? She has great timing."

"You know what you should do to make yourself super-ready to tell Ryan?" he asked.

"What?" I asked.

"Break up with Gabriella," Chuckie said.

"You just don't like her," I said.

"No, I don't," he said.

"Well, I actually do," I said. He was looking at me, but I wasn't paying attention to him. "Not as much as I like Ryan."

"And that's what counts," he said. "And you like her more than you like me?"

"That's…not the point," I said.

"It's a simple yes or no question," Chuckie said.

"Yes," I said. "I'm _sorry_."

"I bet," he said. "Oh wellz, you're forgiven."

"I know," I said. "I was the last four times we had this conversation."

Next day (Wednesday) during lunch, I broke up with Gabriella. For good. Claimed that we didn't just really click right. Told her I wanted to talk to Ryan before the baseball game the next afternoon, and to tell him, if he saw him.

Thursday was my day off that week, but since I had to go for the baseball game, I decided to use my membership to just go do whatever I wanted. Sharpay accosted me while I was practicing my golf (without kids for once).

"Hi, Troy!" she exclaimed. I sighed.

"Shar, it's my day off. I'm not giving you lessons," I said. "You're not even bad at golf." She scowled. "Prove me wrong." I handed her my golf club, and she knocked the ball about 200 yards down the fairway.

"So, I'm not bad at golf," she said. "That's not a crime."

"No," I said. "We should play sometime though."

"Like a date?" she asked.

"No, like as friends," I said. "We are friends right?"

"C'mon, Troy," she said. "Just…be my boyfriend again. I promise to be good."

"No," I said. "You have Zeke. And he's good enough for anyone. That's including you."

"But, Troy–" she began.

"I said no," I said. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Fine," she said. "You don't have to beat me over the head with it." We talked and golfed for a bit, but then I left for lunch, and she said she had something better to do. I couldn't figure what on earth that could be. I ate lunch, and then I spotted Ryan out by the pool. He'd been avoiding me for the previous 24 hours, so I snuck up on him, and scared the shit out of him. It was hilarious. We talked for a while. Kelsi showed up, and Ryan ran away to get ready for the game.

"So…" I began, casting around for something to talk about. "You and Ryan, huh?"

"No, not really," she said.

"Ohh, darnz, how come?" I asked. "What happened?"

"Well, long story short, he's gay, but don't tell anyone," she said. "He's keeping it a secret."

"Why?" I asked. "I mean, it's not like anyone doesn't already think that."

"Yeah, I know," she said. "It was like he was the last one to realize it. But, whatever."

"I know," I said. "So, that's too bad."

"Yeah," she said.

"Still love him?" I asked.

"Unfortunately," she said.

"Had sex with him?" I asked.

"Also unfortunately," she said. She wasn't at all surprised I knew that. After all, I know everything. Eavesdropping comes in serious useful.

"Well, good for you," I said.

"Enh," she said.

"Should probably get to the game," I said.

"Yeah," she said. We got up and began walking out to the baseball diamond. Ryan arrived just 3.52015 minutes of being late. He pitched his team. Chad pitched our team. I played third base. I never was really that good at baseball, and Ryan's team won, 11-8. We all went to eat an early dinner, with Gabriella's mother's brownies (which are the _best_ brownies in the entire world, btw).

I don't have to work my golf pro job on Saturday's, but there are private lessons for some of the members' kids. So my schedule was pretty much free all morning, until my appointments in the afternoon. It was a slow Saturday, so after wishing Taylor a happy birthday, I set out to find Chuckie, who, I am pleased to say, I did _not_ find in a closet with some other guy, or Justin, as the case might have been. He was sitting in the men's locker room reading a book.

"What'cha reading?" I asked.

"Little Women," he replied. "It's for English."

"Any particular reason you're reading it in the men's locker room?" I asked.

"I can watch the cute guys change?" he supplied. I raised an eyebrow. "Fulton won't come in here and make me get to work, whereas if I read in the Lobby, he would."

"Figured," I said. "Well, I am an official honorary member. Wanna go hang out in the members only locker room?"

"Why, is it nice?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's pretty much awesome," I said. "I never come in here anymore." We went to the other side of the complex to the members only locker room. It was nice. There was a carpeted area where my locker was. I showed off my Italian golf shoes, and my fancy golf bag, and we sat down so that we wouldn't be standing around.

"So, this is awesome," he said.

"Yeah, you're really not supposed to be in here," I said. "I could get fired."

"Don't you have, like, job security for life so long as Sharpay's around?" Chuckie asked.

"Well, she's pretty mad at me," I said. "You know, since I won't go out with her."

"Yeah, well, by the end of the day, you'll be dating the other twin," he said. "I gotta say, though, if you ever dated my sister, I'd be really mad."

"Fortunately, I've never dated your sister," I said. "I only date cheerleaders."

"She is a cheerleader," he said.

"Well, then I don't date Chad's leftovers," I said.

"Okay, don't say that. That was rude," Chuckie said.

"Fine, then I only date cheerleaders," I said.

"I'm not a cheerleader," he said.

"Well, I'm not dating you," I said.

"Ryan's not a cheerleader," he said.

"Well…he's special," I said. "I mean, he's _Ryan_."

"Yeah, I get it," he said. "So have you put any thought on how you're gonna do it?"

"No," I admitted. "I figured I'd just…do it."

"Chad's setting him up to figure out why you wouldn't sleep with Gabriella tonight anyway," Chuckie said. "So finding him won't be a problem. Finding him before he's drunk might be."

"He does tend to get pretty drunk," I said. Chuckie nodded. "Lots drunker than us. Put together."

"No, I don't think put together," he said. "But more than you do. And he's _so_ hot when he's hammered…"

"Yeah," I said. "Usually. Tonight could be really fun."

"And, another thing, this is his first real relationship," Chuckie reminded me.

"And we know that how…?" I asked.

"We just _do_," he said. "So, don't take anything too fast."

"You mean like we did?" I asked.

"We didn't take anything too fast," he said.

"We were twelve!" I exclaimed.

"Well, we didn't do anything _bad_ until we were, like, fifteen, at least," he said.

"I was fifteen and you were fourteen, but whatever. You told me I should– you know what? Never mind. Best friends separate from exes," I said. "What's on the agenda for the rest of the day?"

"Hide from Fulton, go to Taylor's birthday party, get really drunk," he listed off. "Preferably in that order."

"Sounds good," I said. "But some of us get paid to actually do work and don't get paid if we don't." He nodded.

"I feel sorry for them," he said.

"That's you, you dork. So, I'll be heading out," I said. "It's time."

"What time?" he asked.

"Summertime," I said, winking and leaving the locker room.

You all know what happened that night. Blah, blah, blah. So, I managed to ask him out, we talked to Chad, and I got cornered, and had to make up some lame excuse to keep the relationship going slowly. I didn't take Chuckie's advice on everything, but he was much better at relationships than me. Don't ask me how, cuz I have no clue. I had approximately one beer. I really didn't want to forget that night. Ever. Never, ever, ever, never, ever, ever, never, ever, never, ever, ever forget.

Dot.

Dot.

Dot.

Okay, so you know that's a lie. After Ryan passed out, Chad and Kelsi put him to bed. I ventured down the hall, where I thought I'd seen Chuckie disappear to. I turned left into a room that had a humongous ping-pong table in it, and there was beer in red SOLO cups _everywhere_.

"Hey people," I said, walking in. Chuckie was there, as were Ruby and Sapphire, and Justin (although I can't remember _why_ exactly…). Sarah was there, too. Chad walked in about two seconds later with Taylor.

"Hey people," Chad said.

"Hi guys," the people replied.

"Wanna play 'I Never'?" Ruby asked, waving a cup in front of my face.

"You know I'm not gonna fall for that," I said.

"Wanna play 'I Never'?" Sapphire asked.

"Yeah, sure," I said. Ruby looked angry, but she wasn't.

"You'll say yes to her, but not to me?" she asked.

"Oh, c'mon everyone knows you're not my type," I said. She scoffed. "I'm kidding."

"So, that was a yes, right?" Chuckie asked. "Cuz I'm bored. Oh, happy birthday Taylor. Didn't even see you there."

"Thank you," Taylor said. "At least someone acknowledges my presence."

"C'mon, Tay, you can play too!" Chad said. We all sat in a circle around the ping-pong table, mostly because we could.

"I'll start," Ruby said. "I never…Wait a second, how dirty are we playing this game?"

"I dunno, Taylor's not drunk yet," Sarah teased. "I'm kidding," she added hastily to the look on Taylor's face. "Sort of."

"I never went out with someone to make someone else jealous," Ruby said. Justin, Taylor (whom I'm surprised we got to play), Sapphire, and I took drinks.

"I never had sex with a girl," Sapphire said, looking pointedly at Chad, who took a drink, and looked relieved when Justin did too.

"Well, I never had sex with a guy," Chad said. Every single person in the room except for Chad took a drink. Taylor giggled.

"I really think it's a good idea we got her drunk," Chuckie whispered.

"Oh, did I forget to mention I'm dating Ryan now?" I replied.

"Oh, good for you," Chuckie said. "Anyway, I never kissed a girl." Chad, Justin, and I took drinks, and Chuckie smirked.

"I never really liked you guys back in middle school," Taylor said.

"Tay, I don't think that's a thing," Chad protested, but Chuckie, Sarah, Sapphire, and I all took drinks. "Okay, maybe it is."

"Chad, take your drink," Chuckie said.

"Why?" Chad asked.

"Cuz you liked Taylor back in middle school," I said.

"I did not!" Chad said.

"Then take one for me," Sarah said. Chad reluctantly took a drink.

"I never played this game before," Justin said, thoughtfully. Everyone else took a drink, even Taylor, which surprised almost everyone.

"I never pretended to like basketball," I said. Ruby, Sapphire, and Taylor all took drinks guiltily.

"I never wanted to be a cheerleader," Sarah said. Ruby and Sapphire took drinks, as did Taylor, again to everyone's surprise.

"I never pretended to like someone, but I didn't because I liked somebody else," Ruby said. Sapphire scowled a drink, as did Chuckie, Sarah, and I.

"I never wanted Ryan Evans," Sapphire said. This seemed to be less of a game and more of a good excuse for the twins to get angry at each other without getting mad. I drained my cup, grinning to myself. Ruby and Taylor took drinks as well, and I raised an eyebrow at Chuckie, who scowled and took another drink. I poured myself some more beer.

"So, I never, uh, no, I did that. Uh…I never…um, word. I've done a lot of stuff. I never, uh…threw up in a bouncy house," Chad said. Everyone else in the room took a drink. "I'm good at this."

"Not really," Chuckie said. "I never…um, had sex with my parents in the house. _Or_ in a bouncy house." Chad, Sarah, and Taylor all guiltily took drinks, and Ruby laughed.

"A bouncy house?" she asked. "That's gotta be a good story."

"Mhm," Sarah said, scowling. "That's fun."

"I never skipped school," Taylor said. Everyone else took a drink. "I'm good at this too."

"I never…knew why I'm here tonight," Justin said.

"Okay, do we drink if we know why we're here, or if we know why _he's_ here?" Chad asked. I shrugged, and the rest of us took drinks, except for Taylor.

"Tay, c'mon, take the drink. It's your birthday," Chad said. Taylor took the drink.

"I never got a car for my birthday," I said. Taylor scowled and took another drink. Justin took a drink too. So did Sarah.

"I never sat on a roof," Sarah said. "Or had sex on it." Chuckie and I took drinks (it was sitting _only_), Chad and Taylor took drinks (hopefully for sitting), and Justin had a drink.

"I never…" Ruby began, but then someone at the door caught her attention. "Hi…Sharpay." _Shit_, I thought.

"Hi guys," Sharpay said. "How are you?"

"Drunk!" Taylor exclaimed.

"She means hi," Chad said. "Well, not like as in high on drugs high, but as in hello hi. How are you?"

"Fine," Sharpay said. "Haven't seen Zeke around, have you?"

"Didja check your bedroom?" Ruby teased.

"Funny," Sharpay said. "Just because some of you are sluts, doesn't mean we all are." She whipped her hair around and stormed out of the room.

"That was a perfectly logical place!" Ruby yelled after her. "Sharpay, c'mon, I didn't mean it!" She wobbled quickly out of the room.

"Okay, well it was her turn," Sapphire said.

"I don't wanna play anymore," Taylor said.

"What _do_ you wanna do?" Chad asked.

"Go have sex," Taylor said. Then, she giggled. "I just said that, didn't I?"

"Just a little bit," I said. "Go on. Have sex. Somebody should." Chuckie laughed. Chad and Taylor actually _scampered_ out of the room.

"So, did I hear that Troy Bolton, basketball star, finally asked his crush out?" Sapphire asked. I nodded. "I'm impressed."

"Me too," Justin said.

"Me _most_," Chuckie said.

"No, _me_ most," I said. "I actually did it. It's just so cool. I think I might be giddy. There's a possibility that this is what giddy feels like."

"Do you feel like…all your dreams just came true?" Chuckie asked.

"That's what it feels like," Sarah said.

"No," I said. "I am kind of ridiculously happy, though."

"You'll be giddy, hon, don't worry," Sapphire said, patting me on the shoulder. "So, didja kiss him yet?"

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "I just barely worked up the courage to ask him out. And that was after I already knew he knew he was gay!"

"So that's a no," Chuckie said. "Too bad. It's also too bad he's still got a girlfriend."

"Damn, I forgot about her," I said. "Oh, now I'm jealous again. I hate being jealous."

"I hate it when you're jealous," Chuckie said.

"I hate it when _you're_ jealous," I countered.

"Call it even?" he asked.

"Sure!" I said. "Does anyone actually know why Justin's here?"

"No," Justin said. "Besides I was bored and in the neighborhood."

"Why were you in the neighborhood?" I asked. Justin looked at Chuckie and then back at me.

"No reason," Justin said.

"Okay, fess up, we all know you're screwing around behind Troy's back. Just say it and get it over with," Sarah said.

"Fine," Chuckie said.

"Thank you," Sarah replied.

"And you better not be drinking. That's– You know," Chuckie said. If I was soberer, it would have been a little suspicious.

"Chillax. It's water. Have you ever seen clear beer?" Sarah asked.

"No, but I've seen clear Vodka," Chuckie said. I yawned.

"I'm tired," I complained. "I'm goin-a bed."

"Kay," Chuckie said, before turning back to his sister. I wandered out of the room in search of the one with the really comfortable couch I crashed on once.

Next morning, I woke up and wandered into the dining room, where Chad and Taylor were making out. I cleared my throat.

"So, since you're gay now, we're not allowed to make out in front of you?" Chad asked.

"You're gay now?" Taylor asked.

"Yes!" I said. "Weren't you paying attention during the game last night?"

"What game?" Taylor asked.

"Don't get her drunk again," I told Chad, who smirked. "And, Tay, I'm sorry to break it to you – actually, who the hell am I kidding? No, I'm not. But anyway – yeah, I'm gay. Always have been, and don't get all 'judgmental' on me…okay?"

"Okay," Taylor said. "Why am I hung over?"

"Chad got you drunk," I said. "And then you had sex."

"I remember that," Taylor said. "Or maybe not. My parents are gonna kill me if I come home hung over."

"Don't go home," I suggested.

"Not helping," Taylor said. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

"Who says there's any guy?" I asked.

"It's Ryan," Chad said.

"Ooh," Taylor said. "He's cute. Congrats." Chuckie walked into the dining room, yawning. He didn't even seem to notice the three of us sitting and talking, and walked right into the kitchen. He walked back out about three seconds later, with a confused look on his face.

"This isn't my house," he said.

"No," I said. "It is not."

"Why are we here?" he asked.

"Because it was Taylor's birthday party," I explained.

"Oh," Chuckie said, sitting down at the table. "Did I know that?"

"Yes," I said. "I hate drunk people."

"Good luck with Evans, then," Chad said, smirking.

"You told him?" Chuckie asked.

"Why does no one remember last night?" I asked rhetorically. Ryan walked into the dining room at that second.

"What's up guys?" he asked, sitting down and helping himself to breakfast.

"Nothing much," Taylor said. Chad started laughing.

"Okay, what did I do that I don't remember this time?" Ryan asked.

"Nothing," I said. "They know." He was confused. "Ry, they _know_."

"Oh. Oh, okay... Did I know that?" Ryan asked.

"Nah," I said. "Told them this morning. Hope that's okay."

"Yeah, that's fine," he said. We talked for a little while longer, then Gabriella, Sharpay, Martha, Zeke, and Jason showed up, and we talked to them. Gabriella got mad at Ryan and stormed out in the hallway, and he followed her.

"Well, _that_ went smoothly," Sharpay said. "Told you we shouldn't have let her in here."

"This is _not_ my fault," Zeke said. "I mean, I can't be expected to be right all the time, can I?"

"Troy is," Sharpay pointed out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said. "No, I'm not."

"Yes you are," Sharpay said. "You always know what time it is, and you always seem to know what I'm thinking." Chuckie and I exchanged looks.

"I have superpowers," I said. "But that doesn't mean I'm always right. You should listen to your boyfriend."

"Yeah, listen to your boyfriend," Chad said. "You are her boyfriend, right?"

"Yes, I am," Zeke said. "If she would not be so critical all the time, and possessive, and overly dramatic–"

"That's who I am!" Sharpay said. "Are you telling me you like me for who I am, but you want me to change?"

"No," Zeke said. "I like you in _spite_ of all those things." Sharpay glared at him. "I mean…never mind. You can keep blaming me for things that can't possibly be my fault."

"I'm not blaming you for things that aren't your fault!" Sharpay said.

"Girls," I mediated. Zeke glared at me, but I ignored him. "This isn't solving any problems. Now, kiss and make up." I think they kissed, but I wasn't looking. "Now say you're sorry."

"Sorry," they both muttered to each other.

"Good," I said. Ryan and Gabriella walked back into the room. He had his arm around her, and she had her head on his shoulder. I looked at him with a "what's going on?" look, and he shot me a "we'll talk about it later" look and I nodded. We talked for a little longer, and then Ryan went to change his clothes. I made a flimsy excuse to leave the dining room, and went to find Ryan three minutes later. He was still wandering around the hall. We talked, and I convinced him to break up with Kelsi, which he did. I went to the bathroom, and then back into the dining room.

"So, we have to go," Sharpay said.

"Where ya goin?" I asked.

"Back to the club," she said. "Why is it your business?"

"It isn't," I said. "Have fun." She and Zeke left. Gabriella, Martha, and Jason also made excuses to get home, and left. Chad and I moved our party into the living room, where Ryan reappeared about ten minutes later. We teased Chad about his heterosexuality, something I'd been wanting to do for _ages_ and then we decided to watch Harry Potter based on the basis that Daniel Radcliffe is smoking hot, although not really my type… Taylor and Chad made out through most of the movie. I was so used to sharing a couch with Chuckie, that it actually surprised me when he didn't sit down next to me. But then I remembered why we were even there. Ryan… –dons dreamy face and thinks about boyfriend– …anyway, I watched the movie. It's a good movie. I think it's the best of the series, but…that's my opinion. The second one was good too. Everything went downhill after Chris Columbus stopped directing.

When it was finally over (yes, there is such a thing as too much Daniel Radcliffe, I can't believe I said it), he was still lying on top of me. Not that I was complaining, of course. We decided to eat lunch, and when we got to the dining room, Kelsi was there. Ryan and I decided we weren't going to tell her. We talked for a bit, and Chad kept complaining that he was hungry.

"Ryan, dude, what'cha thinking about?" I asked. Ryan had had a weird look on his face.

"Some stuff," he said.

"Anything important?" Kelsi asked.

"Not really," Ryan said. I didn't believe him. He looked at me and tried to convey something to me that could have been "let's talk later" or "I really hate mashed potatoes". It was really hard to tell. I nodded anyway. Chuckie struck up a conversation about toaster ovens, which are the imaginary prize that a lesbian wins for converting a sufficient number of women to lesbianism, which he had told me once before, when I was proving that I could take apart his toaster oven using just a screwdriver. Totally won 20 bucks, but Mrs. Brown was angry. Taylor and Chad took Kelsi home, and Chuckie, Ryan, and I hung out in the living room.

"So what are we going to do?" I asked.

"Well, we could do something besides discussing what we're going to do," Ryan said.

"Wonderful suggestion," I said. There was a long pause. "And now what do you propose we do?" There was another long pause, that was ended when Chuckie broke out in laughter.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked. He nodded but kept laughing. "What is so funny?"

"Troy and Sharpay's wedding," Chuckie said between laughs. His laughter started getting farther and farther away…

*****

_It was the first day of Kindergarten. It was lunchtime, and I was sitting with Chuckie under a tree in the yard, eating a sandwich. We were just talking about whatever. We already knew each other, because we live so close to each other. All of a sudden, two blond beings sauntered up to us._

"_May I help you?" I asked, nicely._

"_I'm going to marry you someday. Please plan your life accordingly," the girl said to me. The boy was standing with his arms crossed and rolled his eyes at this thought._

"_Excuse me?" I asked, still politely, although a little confused. Chuckie was practically dying from the pressure of not bursting into laughter._

"_I said–" the girl began again._

"_No, I heard what you said," I said, quickly, not wanting her to get angry. "It's just…I don't even know you."_

"_I'm Sharpay Amanda Evans," she said. "And someday, we'll be getting married. I'm just letting you know now, so that you can pick out your best man and other grooms people. The colors are going to be pink, purple, and white, and there will be a seven tiered wedding cake, vanilla cake, vanilla frosting. You'll be wearing a white tuxedo, with matching shoes. Our song will be 'All I Ask Of You' from _Phantom of the Opera_. Any questions?"_

"_Um, what?" I said. The boy standing next to her snorted and I looked to stare at him. It was the first time I'd ever met them in my life, and I was wondering what was going on. I was so confused._

"_This is my brother, Ryan," Sharpay said. "He evidently doesn't believe me."_

"_No, I believe you," Ryan said. "I'm telling you, he's never going to go along with this. And plus, he might have cooties."_

"_I don't have cooties!" I protested in a rather whiny voice. "You have cooties."_

"_I do NOT have cooties!" Ryan said, storming off. I watched him leave, feeling bad for having offended him._

"_Don't worry about him," Sharpay said, rolling her eyes. "He's always like that. Anyways, toodles, Troy!" She sauntered off, leaving me more confused than I had been before._

"_How did she know my name?" I asked to the yard at large, not getting an answer._

*****

"Troy? Troy?! Troy! TROY!" Ryan yelled, clapping in front of my face. I blinked and looked at him. "Troy?"

"Ryan?" I asked.

"Oh, nope, I was wrong, this has happened before," Chuckie said. "Not in a while though."

"Troy, are you okay?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?" I asked.

"Because you were kind of out of it," Ryan said. I went to explain to him that I was having a kindergarten flashback, but Chuckie beat me to it.

"It happens every once in a while," he said, "whenever someone brings up his and Sharpay's wedding."

"Wedding," I said. "Wedding. God, what are we going to tell Sharpay?"

"About…?" Ryan asked.

"This," I said, gesturing wildly around the room. "Me. You. Us. Chuckie."

"What does he have to do with it?" Ryan asked, looking awkwardly at Chuckie, who laughed.

"Now there's a long story," he said. We argued for a while on what to tell Sharpay, ending in me and Chuckie striking up a fake argument to illustrate to Ryan how weird the whole situation was, and then we played "Never Have I Ever" for a long, long time until Ryan couldn't think of anymore things he hadn't done, and we all collapsed into laughter. I had to be home by three, so I took Ryan to the club, and we dropped him off. We drove away from the club.

"So…" I said.

"You finally got your wish," Chuckie said to me.

"Yeah, I guess I did," I said.

"Is it everything you always dreamed of?" he asked.

"Nah," I said, grinning. "It's more."

"Wow," he said. "Corny, much?"

"Yes," I said. "But that's fine by me." There was a long pause during which I found it difficult to concentrate on the road because I was thinking about Ryan.

"Do you want me to drive?" Chuckie asked after about the third time I almost drove off the road.

"No, I can do it," I said. "It's kinda hard to focus."

"Don't get us pulled over," Chuckie advised. "You might still be drunk."

"Highly doubt it," I said. "Plus you don't even have a license. What is it, suspended for sixty days now?" Chuckie harrumphed. "So, interesting day we've had, huh?"

"I guess," he replied. "I'm not that fond of that house or the people that live in it."

"Me neither," I said.

"Liar," Chuckie teased.

"Hell, yeah, I am," I said. "I love Ryan."

"Ach. Social taboo, social taboo, social taboo," he teased. I grinned.

"Don't care, don't care, don't care," I said. "Ha."

"So. When are you coming out to your parents?" Chuckie asked.

"Um…never," I said.

"You were all for it a couple weeks ago," he said.

"That's cuz I was sick of Gabriella," I said. "There are just some things a girl can't do…"

"Yeah," Chuckie agreed. "I wouldn't know…"

"Lucky," I said. "You're not Troy Bolton."

"Thankfully," he said. "Otherwise one of us would be guilty of identity theft." I laughed, and parked my truck back in the garage. Chuckie hopped out. "Thanks for the ride."

"No, I was just gonna leave you there," I said. "Hey, so, are you dating Justin now?"

"Ha. Nope," he said. He grinned and ran home. I went up to my room. Dylan was waiting for me when I got there.

"You're late!" he informed me.

"No, I'm not," I said. "I was supposed to be home by three."

"Oh, and it's 3:06," he said, grinning and holding a watch.

"Oh, and your clock is fast," I said, grinning and brandishing my cell phone (which I didn't even have to look at to know that it read "2:59"). He scowled and left my bedroom.

Next day (Monday) at the club, I walked into the kitchen on my lunch break, just as Kelsi was leaving.

"You are so not worth this," Ryan said.

"Not talking about me, are you?" I asked. He turned around to reveal he was holding an orange.

"No, I'm talking to this stupid orange," he said. "Really."

"That's not weird or anything," I said, laughing. "Where is everyone? I'm starving and this is my lunch break." … Zeke came in, and then Chad came in, and so I volunteered to help waiter, since the kitchen was short-staffed. Ryan left for the pool, and I waitered all through lunch, and almost didn't make it out to the golf course on time, which really would have pissed off Fulton. When I finally finished my job, I went back into the lobby, where Ryan was reading Little Women for English class. I stifled a laugh, and we went out to talk on the golf course.

"Troy," Ryan asked me after a while.

"Yeah," I replied.

"How long have you known you were gay?" he asked. It was a really weird question to hear asked, because no one had ever asked me before. I had to think about it.

"Four and a half years…or so," I replied. Four, four and a half, five, it doesn't really matter.

"Wow," he remarked. "Okay, that's a long time. Really?"

"Yeah," I said, shrugging. "Hard to believe?"

"Not really," he said. "Yeah. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I went into a long winded (and mostly made up) story about stuff… Blah, blah, blah. I never really realized how boring we are when we talk.

"You really are a creepy stalker person, aren't you?" he asked me. "What have you done with Troy Bolton?" Suddenly we were in a tickle fight, and he ended up on top of me when he stopped the fight.

"You're blocking my view of the sky," I complained, grinning. Then I got an even better view. He kissed me. Once. Then, taking matters into my own hands, I kissed him. I couldn't not. I loved him so goddamn much. Anyway, take that, whoever is jealous! Ha! When we finally stopped, he rolled off of me, and we continued to look at the sky and have meaningless conversation.

The next day, I had the day off, so he took me shopping, and I got to look like an Abercrombie model on somebody else's credit card. Fine by me. We ran into Chad and Taylor at lunch. Later that afternoon, we were back at the club, and Sharpay and Kelsi accosted us. I'll cut to the chase, we told them, and Kelsi got 20 bucks richer. Still later that evening, we were in a living room at the club, talking. We talked a while, kissed a little, and I ended up spilling my deepest secrets out. They are twofold.

1) That I'm bi.  
2) That I actually loved Gabriella once upon a time. And I still do sometimes. It's such a complicated emotion, love. But I didn't tell him that part. But therein lies the first secret. See, it's also circular.

Then he said he loved me. I knew he didn't mean it (yet) and that he was just saying it so that I could say it too, because he had figured out that I'd known I'd loved him for – well, practically forever.

Wednesday, we had the "guy's night" at the pool, and we told the other guys who didn't know (i.e. Zeke and Jason). They were really cool about it, but I'd figured they would be. Then, Ryan got called away in the middle of a splash war, which sucked. But we carried on, and I owned. Eventually, Ryan came back and we all devoured Cheddarwursts (which are really good, by the way)

"Whad'ja do?" Chad asked, his mouth full of cheddarwurst.

"Came out to my parents," Ryan said from the chaise beside mine.

"Ouch," me and Chuckie said at the same time. Chad swallowed.

"Ouch," he said.

"How'd they take it?" Chuckie asked.

"Do you see me living on the street?" Ryan asked.

"No, but this is a really nice country club," Chad said.

"They're fine with it," Ryan said.

"Well, good," I said. "If my parents kick me out when I tell them, I can come live with you."

"Oh, yeah, which reminds me," Ryan said. "I sort of told them I was dating you."

"Oh, wonderful," I said.

"That's okay, right?" Ryan asked. "They promised not to talk about it. My mom thought I was dating Chad, of course, just like Sharpay did."

"Why does everyone think that?!" Chad yelled to no one in particular. "I have a girlfriend. Her name is Taylor. She is really good in bed."

"You love her?" Zeke asked.

"'Course," Chad said.

"That's what you should say next time," Zeke advised.

"I think it's because that whole 'I Don't Dance' thing was pretty gay," Chuckie said. "No offense."

"It was," Jason agreed.

"We were just dancing," Chad said.

"Never mind," I said. "You wanted to know? Well, that's why. But never mind."

"So, is Taylor _really_ good in bed?" Jason asked, changing the subject.

"Do you really think that's what we want to hear about?" Chuckie asked. "I mean it's bad enough we have to watch you make out all the time without listening to you going on about how good she is in bed."

"Yeah, well–" Chad began, but there was another scream from in the country club.

"Oh, sorry, that's me," Ryan said. "Sharpay wants something again. I'll probably be back." He left again.

"Anyway," Chad said. "We don't ask you how good _Troy_ is in bed."

"Exactly!" Chuckie said. "So therefore–"

"Whoa!" Jason said.

"Plot twist," Zeke said. "What?"

"Um, we don't ask Chuckie how good Troy is in bed?" Chad repeated.

"Why would we ask him that?" Jason asked.

"Well, that's the reason he knew first," Chad said. Jason and Zeke both looked at me and Chuckie and we looked back, guilty expressions on our faces.

"And is this true?" Zeke asked. We nodded. "I feel so out of the loop."

"To give yourself credit, it's hard to stay out of the loop when you're dating Sharpay," Chad said.

"Mhm," I agreed. "You're constantly in the loop around her." Ryan came back at that second.

"False alarm," he said. "Never mind. The maid found a…never mind."

The next day, we told Gabriella, which went over fine, I guess. She didn't go insane, but she did kiss me, which wasn't terrible. I mean, we'd kissed before, but doing it front of Ryan made me feel both guilty and self-conscious.

That day passed terribly slowly. So did Friday. But Saturday night, there was another party, the reason for which escapes me at the moment. The night was fun, but I hardly remember any of it. That's typical for me. The next morning was interesting.

"Troy David Bolton!" Gabriella yelled. Not good. She is full-naming me. That is never good. "This stupid basketball boy of yours is being sketchy!"

"No, I'm not!" Chuckie said.

"Okay, sit, explain, and please stop yelling. Hangover," I said. Everyone sat down, and I did a very good impression of a judge. Chad did a really good impression of an obnoxious spectator. And a bad mime of– you know what? Ryan didn't tell you, so…neither am I. That'll stay with us. I'd rather not scar you for life any more than you already are.

"He was talking in his sleep about _you_!" Gabriella exclaimed. Chuckie and I looked at each other.

"Excuse me please, the judge has to deliberate," I said quickly. "Will the defendant please rise and come with me?" I grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him out of the dining room and into the living room, which was thankfully deserted. "Dude! What the hell?"

"I'm sorry!" he said. "I'm not in charge of what I dream about! Or how much I talk during it."

"But, come on. With Gabriella right there? What is the matter with you?" I asked.

"I…miss you," he said, pouting. "Don't you miss me?"

"I've been going out with Ryan for a week. You and I have been broken up for – count em – eight months." I waggled eight fingers in front of his face. "And I see you every day. No, I don't miss you."

"Not at all?" he asked.

"Maybe a little," I said. "Not that much. Not enough to talk in my sleep about you. But what about Justin? Just get over yourself, ask him out. It'd be good for you to date again. Random hookups aren't any fun. Ask your sister."

"My sister does not do that," Chuckie said. "Don't even talk about her. You have _no_ idea."

"Where has she been lately?" I asked. "I haven't seen her around at work."

"That's none of your business," Chuckie said. "Look, I'm sorry okay?"

"Okay," I said. "And this won't happen again?" We walked into the dining room. "Okay then." I banged a fork on a plate, and called my courtroom to order. The case was settled, and the court adjourned. I'd make a good lawyer. I wonder what I should do in college… Hmm.

Well, you all know how the story goes. The Monday after school started, rehearsals for TruthOut started. Although it hadn't been named that yet. The Saturday after that was Gabriella's birthday, and the Tuesday after that was me and Ryan's one month anniversary. Let's see…Ryan has no idea how to use the word touché. I should be able to stay home alone. Ryan and Sharpay home alone all the time. I don't think it's fair. That, and I hate my parents. Did I mention? Probably. The following Wednesday was Chuckie's birthday. I like to play Skeeball, did I ever mention that? I think so. And…yes, I am actually that terrible at Play Station. I really don't know why I own one. Oh, and LOL Dylan. He beats me all the time.

Honest to God, nothing interesting happened for weeks. Except for Sarah mysteriously came back into school the following Monday. She'd been mysteriously gone, but she just melted back in, right onto the soccer team, the cheerleading team, and the tennis team. Don't ask me where she'd mysteriously disappeared to. I hadn't even noticed she was gone. Which, I probably should have, because she sits almost right next to me. And Chuckie had absolutely nothing to say on the matter.

"She was sick, Troy, that's all," he said.

"For three weeks? Seriously? Am I supposed to buy that?" I asked.

"Everyone else is," he said. "If you care so much, why don't you ask her yourself?" I declined doing so. She scares me sometimes. Maybe she really was sick. I didn't buy it. Still an unsolved mystery. I didn't mention it to Chad, otherwise he would have made it his top priority, and I actually respect her privacy, especially when it comes to Chad. Anyway. This story is about me. And I knew that.

Several weeks passed. TruthOut was presented. My dad threw a fit. My mom was a lot easier to convince than I thought she was going to be. Here's how the conversation went, because I know everyone wants to know.

"What in the HELL do you think you're doing?" my dad yelled as I walked through the door with Ryan that night. He'd given me a ride, as he absolutely point blank refused to ride in my truck. It was very unsanitary, he said. I made a note to have him buy me a cool car.

"Um…going to bed?" I asked tentatively. Dylan started sniggering his head off.

"Dylan, be quiet," my mom said. "Honey, why you felt you had to keep the fact that you're in a relationship a secret is beyond me–" I gestured at Dad, who was standing, fuming, nearby. "–but your father and I support you one hundred percent."

"Man, have I heard that one before," I said. "Okay, so I'm going to bed." I started to pull Ryan out of the living room/kitchen/hallway, but my mom wanted to talk some more.

"Your father is going through a difficulty," my mom said. "He'll–"

"Look, I know, okay?" I said. "The same thing happened with Chad, and the guys, and…Sharpay, and Ryan's parents. I got it. I'll talk to him tomorrow." I pulled Ryan off up the stairs.

"No inappropriate actions under my roof!" my mom called after us.

"Wayyy too late for that," I said, rolling my eyes. "Anyway, that was fun."

"Yeah. Let's never do that again," Ryan said. The sounds of my parents arguing came from downstairs.

"If they get divorced over this, I can't honestly say I would care," I said.

"That's terrible," he replied.

"I can still come live with you, right?" I asked.

"Always," he said. "But I hope you're not going to need to."

"Yeah, me too. I'd miss Dylan," I said. "He's the best little brother in the whole world."

"Don't think I didn't hear that," Dylan called from his room. "And don't even try to suck up to me. You are a bad liar."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "But you're a bad observer. Jesus Christ, I can't believe it took you so long to figure it out."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said. "So shoot me."

"I just might," I replied. He made a scoffing noise like "as if" and I dropped it. "Night Ry."

"Night Troy," Ryan replied. The next morning, mom and Dad were waiting for me in the living room for when I got up to go to school.

"Should I be scared?" I asked. "Better yet, should I be packing everything I own into Ryan's car?"

"What? No," my dad said. "Look, son–"

"Don't 'son' me," I said.

"We know that this is your decision–" my dad began.

"Is not," I said. "Well, it is. But it's not a choice. I can't choose who I fall in love with, Dad. And if I could, this would still be the outcome."

"–and we respect it, but what about Gabriella? And Sharpay Evans and Sapphire Eaton and Sarah Brown and all the other girls you've dated?" my dad asked.

"When did I ever date Sarah?" I asked. "Or Sapphire?"

"Specifically, Gabriella," my dad continued. "We thought you were head over heels for her."

"I was," I said. "I really was. But…everything's always been about Ryan. And I know, it's a change. And I'm willing to keep it to a minimum around the house if you want me too, but I'm not going to change my mind. This is it. It's Ryan. For the long haul. Right?"

"Um…yeah," Ryan said, startled that he'd been called on. My mother looked like she might cry.

"Are you okay, mom?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "I'm just happy for you, honey. You know, I always suspected there might be something going on between you two…or Chuckie Brown…but I always thought I must have been imagining it."

"Nope," I said. "Sharp as a tack, you are." I yawned. "Can I go to school now?"

"But what about Gabriella?" my dad said, changing the subject.

"That's over," I said. "It's been over for months. Have you seen her around?"

"But that was love too. I've seen it. I know," my dad said.

"Gabriella was…this is going to sound really mean…almost like a last ditch attempt at being straight. And I can do it, I swear, but I don't want to. And I don't have to. Not with Ryan around," I said. "So, believe it or not, but this is who I am." My dad didn't say anything. Nor did my mom.

"Whatever, bro. You're still a dork," Dylan called from the refrigerator.

"Thanks, Dyl," I said. "So are you. Dad, I just want to know that you're okay with this. And that Chuckie and me can keep our varsity roster spots. Honestly, the team doesn't care."

"You're worried about getting kicked off the team?" my dad asked, confused.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "Also about having to live on the street, but you know, I like basketball."

"Eat, sleep, and breathe basketball, actually," Dylan said, helpfully.

"Dylan, shush," my mom said.

"You don't have to worry about the team," my dad said. "You should know that I can't just put whoever I want on the teams."

"Well, that's certainly not how it seemed freshman year," I said.

"And the school has a policy about homophobia," my dad continued. "After that Harrison kid disaster."

"Okay, I'm confused," I said. "What about all those talks you gave me? You know…Homosexuals are the reason the economy is bad…homosexuals are the reason there's no ice cream in the freezer…Satan is a homosexual…homosexuals get into your brain and screw around in there…homosexual athletes are an abomination to society and should be rounded up and shot…"

"Did I say that?" he asked.

"Maybe. I might have dreamed that one. But that's beside the point. I mean, honestly, how can I possibly trust anything you're saying after all the negative stuff I've heard in the past?" I asked. Ryan giggled. "What?"

"Look at your brother," Ryan whispered. I looked towards Dylan, who was standing on the island, juggling pears. As I watched, he started humming the circus tune that you hum when you juggle.

"Hey, throw me an apple," he said. Ryan walked into the kitchen area and started passing Dylan more fruit to juggle. I laughed.

"And there's always Dylan to make the best of an awkward situation. Well, I'm desperately wanted at school. Oh, and we're giving Chuckie and Sarah a ride today. Sarah's car needs to be inspected or something…? I don't know," I said. "C'mon, Ry, let's go."

"Hey, wait for me!" Dylan said, juggling all the fruit except for one orange into the fruit bowl. "I'm coming!"

"Okay, crowded car," I said. "Bye, dad, see you at school." Ryan, Dylan, and I hurried out of the house, so we wouldn't be late for the post-performance, early morning rehearsal that we were supposed to be at. And by we I mean me and Ryan.

"And why can't you just take your own car?" Dylan asked, as he was squashed in the backseat.

"I told you, it needs to be inspected," Sarah said. "And if Chuckie could go more than two weeks without getting a speeding ticket or losing his license, maybe Mom would buy him one."

"In conclusion, Chuckie sucks at life," I said.

"Oh," Dylan said. "Burn." He and I slapped five. It was just like old times.

**The End. (Except for not).  
**

**A/N: Oh, sadness. Next: The HSM3 Epilogue. It's a sad, sad state of affairs, that the story is coming to a close, hey, but there's still a sequel! I like it. My mom likes it, but all she ever says is that she likes it, and then tells me to do my homework. And then, of course, after that, there's The Missing Files, all of the coolio information between the end of the next epilogue, and the beginning of the sequel. Because, a little heads up right now, you **_**will**_** be confused at the beginning of the sequel. But I hope it holds your attention. I've become too attached to the characters to let them go.**

**So, after my long rambling, I now tell you that I own nothing that you recognize, thank you for reading, and please review! As per usual, a personal thank you to everyone who reviews, favorites, and adds to alerts will be given at the end of the last chapter. If that's an incentive (it would be for me).**

**Samantha.**

**PS, HSM3 rocks, doesn't it? Kind of makes the whole story moot, don'tcha think? Ha. I'll figure it out... After all, I am…_not_ Joe the Plumber (also don't own, although I don't think McCain does either…).**


	25. Epilogue 2: Chapter 25

**A/N: WARNING: MAJOR HSM3 SPOILERS. IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN HSM3 AND DO NOT WISH TO BE SPOILED, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER. On a similar note, if you **_**have**_** seen HSM3, please do not leave me a review informing me that this is not how it happens. I am aware of that. I had to move some stuff around. And I'm sorry. It's been two weeks since I've seen it, and I'm kind of going crazy.**

**

* * *

Epilogue 2: Chapter 25  
**–**In Which Samantha Tries To Remember HSM3 The Best She Can, And Yet Still Manages To Get It Impossibly Wrong, So Just Ignore That.**

I was standing at my locker, changing my Friday morning books for my Monday afternoon books (whether or not it was actually Monday afternoon (I have the feeling it was neither)), when all of a sudden, Ryan and Chuckie both came storming up to me. They both looked angry, which fit, considering they couldn't stand each other, until I realized they were angry at _me_.

"Alright Bolton, what the hell is this?" Ryan asked. Uh-oh. Definitely in trouble. He never called me by my last name. I racked my brains for anything I could have done.

"Um…can you be more specific?" I asked tentatively.

"Last night, your tree house? Ringing any bells?" Chuckie said angrily. "Doesn't matter. I have it on video tape."

"Are you stalking me?" I asked.

"As your best friend, ex, _and_ across-the-street neighbor, it's kind of my job," he said, taking a DVD out of his pocket. "Tada."

"That's not a videotape," I said. Talking back to Chuckie I was fine with. Talking back to Ryan is not something I ever want to do again.

"It serves the same purpose. If you'd walk this way please…" Chuckie said. We moved our procession down the hall into an AV closet. LOL, closet. He showed off the DVD and inserted it into a DVD player. An image came up on the screen. He hit play. "Okay, so I'm not the video genius Jason is, thank God he's good at something, but, uh, I think this serves a purpose." The Troy and Gabriella on the screen danced around. "Oh, wait, volume." The characters were suddenly emitting noise. You couldn't make out all the words, due to the noise of the party. Unfortunately, I knew what they were saying. They were singing, actually. A song. _Right Here, Right Now_ to be specific.

"So?" I said, honestly hoping he hadn't managed to get enough of it for it to be incriminating in some way. "I'm not allowed to sing with my friends? I believe I heard someone singing with Kelsi the other day."

"Yeah, it would be fine," Ryan said. "Except for one thing." He pointed to the screen, which was in freeze frame. I cringed. "I don't kiss Kelsi when we sing!"

"I heard my name," Kelsi said, sticking her head in the closet. She caught sight of the screen. "Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_," Ryan said.

"Look, I'm sorry. It was all her!" I protested.

"You are a worse liar than me," Ryan said. "Back up the tape please."

"DVD," I mumbled.

"Shut up," Ryan said. Chuckie backed up the tape, showing exactly how clear it was as the miniscule characters half-kissed, that the boy in the picture was the one initiating the half-kiss.

"Busted," Chuckie said. "I said it. I said there was still something going on between you and that…evil chick."

"Her name's Gabriella, and she's very nice. And she's my friend. And she's your friend, too, Ryan," I said. "She's just a friend, I swear. And if you thought something was happening, you could've just asked. You don't have to stalk me."

"Evidently I do. Because when I ask, you just lie about it," Chuckie said.

"I swear that's the only time it's happened. Um, unless you have any more DVDs in your pocket," I said.

"I have a VHS tape in my pocket, but I don't think you want to see what's on it," he said, grinning.

"Oh, God," I said. "Just keep it in your pocket. And do whatever you want with your own boyfriend. And stay out of my life." I pushed past Chuckie and Kelsi out of the closet and back to my locker where I'd left my books. I shoved the Monday ones in my bag, slammed my locker, and whirled around in a very bad mood right into Ryan, who was standing there. "What?"

"Despite the fact that you've proved over and over you don't deserve it–" he began.

"Whoa. Over and over? This is the first time this has happened. I swear," I said. "Um…incident while you were at the Spice Girls concert aside."

"What happened while I was at the Spice Girls concert?!" he asked.

"You didn't know about that?" I asked. "Oh. Nothing."

"Troy…" he prompted in his infuriatingly calm way.

"Nothing!" I said. We walked a little ways towards Ms. Darbus's room. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. "Okay, but it was basically nothing. Chad threw a party to celebrate the fact that the state of New Mexico would be Sharpayless for a couple nights. So there's a possibility I might have gotten a little bit drunk. And by a little bit, I mean seriously hammered. Can't remember half the night." Ryan made a gun with his hand and mimed shooting me in the head. Then he mimed shooting himself in the head and his brains splattering all over the wall. "Huh?"

"You're stupid, so I shot you, then you died, and I remembered I love you, so I shot myself too," he explained. "C'mon, let's go to class." He grabbed my hand and pulled me into our homeroom, twirling me into my seat. Chad laughed.

"Okay, you win the gay contest," he said, laughing.

"That has always been my most burning ambition," I said. "At this time, I'd like to thank my parents for accepting me for who I am, my wonderful boyfriend Ryan, and all my friends, especially Chad, for helping me get this award. It's the biggest honor offered here at–"

"Are you _quite_ finished, Mr. Bolton?" Ms. Darbus interrupted me.

"Uh…no," I said. "At East High School. I'm just so happy–"

"Mr. Bolton!" Ms. Darbus said.

"Yeah, I'm done," I said quickly.

"Good. I believe Ms. McKessie has some announcements," Ms. Darbus said. As Taylor went off on some long-winded spiel about Prom committees and yearbook committees and lunch specials, Gabriella kept trying to get my attention. But this was a bad time. It was…not good. Then Sharpay had some announcements (not that anyone cares), but then Kelsi (of all people, of _course_ it was her) volunteered us all for a musical, because why _wouldn't_ we want to do _another_ musical? No, no, no, no, no! was the response of the homeroom.

"It's our last chance to do something together," Gabriella said. She looked at me to agree with her. Kelsi, Ryan, and Sharpay were already on her side. I sighed.

"I'm in," I said, raising my hand. Both Ryan and Gabriella smiled and celebrated. The spring musical, as it turned out, was about Chad. No, sorry, about _all_ of us. Which sounded great, until it turned out…I have no idea what I want to do with my life. At all. A scholarship to some music school? What would I do with that? The guys, the girls, everyone else knows what they want. Chad: UofA, hoops all the way. Taylor: PolySci, Pre-Law. She wants to be president. Even Gabriella knows what she wants. Of course _Sharpay_ knows. Center stage, spotlights, marquises. So obvious. But what do I want?

While Sharpay and Ryan had everyone busy in the lunch room, I was in the library trying to figure out what it was that I wanted. In the meantime, I was still a senior. I had to get good grades. I had to chase the freshmen around the school after stealing their clothes. I mean, these are very important responsibilities. Then, I overheard Ryan talking to himself in a mirror at his house that night (I was staying there, long story. Basically I had a fight with my parents and left my own house right before my birthday), rehearsing asking someone to the Prom. And that someone…wasn't me. I mean, it was pretty obvious he was going to go with Kelsi, and I was going with Gabriella, but just as friends and everything, but he seemed pretty worked up about it. I made a few calls.

The next morning, I brought Gabriella up to the rooftop gardens, and…asked her to Prom.

"Well, I've never been to a Prom before, but this almost resembles an invitation," Gabriella joked. We did some…practice waltzing, but then it started to rain, and the warning bell rang, so we had to run. Which was _good_, because we didn't kiss. Which would have been bad. Because Ryan would find out, because the eyes and ears of my enemies are everywhere. Or at least, a boy, about 5'8", brown hair, brown eyes, kind of annoying, really good kisser, with a video camera permanently attached to his hand. Screw video cameras.

"God fucking damn it all to hell and fuck!!" I swore as I squelched to the locker rooms. "Somebody definitely saw that."

"You thought right."

"Damnit, stop stalking me! It's none of your business," I said. "Go screw up your own boyfriend's life,"

"I would, but he never does anything wrong," Chuckie said.

"Hooray for Saint Justin," I said, sarcastically, peeling my soaked jacket and shirt off, replacing them with a dry button-up from my locker.

"Who said I was dating Justin?" he asked. I didn't answer. "You know, this was quite a while in the making. Had to get Kelsi in on it. That was tough. I'm actually surprised Gabriella didn't come straight to me when she wanted to break you guys up."

"Cuz she didn't want the competition," I mumbled, drying my hair with a towel.

"As if. There was never any competition. I win every time," he said.

"You're crazy," I said, throwing the towel back into the locker.

"Oh, I know. This actually just fell into place all by itself. Of course, after Chad's party, it was just inevitable," he said.

"What _happened_ that night?" I asked.

"Absolutely nothing," Chuckie said, laughing. "But you thought it did, and that set it in motion."

"That's cruel," I said.

"I know," he said. "But so are you." He left, smirking to himself. I changed my pants as quick as I could, and hurried to not be late for English.

"I'm not cruel," I hissed as I slipped into my seat next to his. "That was all entirely your fault. And you started it."

"You sound like a third-grader," Chuckie hissed back.

"Mr. Bolton. Mr. Brown," Ms. Whitney said. "Is there something you'd like to share with the entire class?"

"Chuckie is trying to ruin my relationship," I said. "And he's doing a very sloppy job."

"I'm doing a great job," he replied. "Troy's just a terrible person with a very, very forgiving boyfriend."

"Troy, Charles, principal's office, right now," Ms. Whitney said. "I will not have you disrupting my class with your foolishness." Chuckie and I got up, gathered our books, and left for Principal Matsui's office.

"You got us sent to the principal's office," I said. "Now I feel like a third grader."

"Good," he hissed back. "Because I'm skipping the rest of the day."

"You cannot just skip out on a trip to the principal's office. And you can't just leave. You're not eighteen, you can't sign yourself out," I said. We went into the office.

"Excuse me, Ms. Robinson? Hi, I have this note, I have an appointment this morning," Chuckie said, producing a note from nowhere. "Can I have a dismissal slip please?" Ms. Robinson wrote him out one, and he left smirking. I signed myself out and followed him. No one in the office ever called me on skipping class – they'd have to answer to my dad.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"Came in useful a lot last year. So, you driving us to the mall or what?" he asked.

"We're going to the mall?" I asked.

"Sure. Unless you'd rather go home and explain to your mom why you're not in school," he replied. "And since I have no car, you're driving."

"It's not my fault you don't have a car," I said. "If you could keep your license for more than two weeks at a time, your mom would get you one."

"I hate driving slow," he said by way of explanation. We got into my truck (which started, thankfully), and went to the mall.

"But," I said, as he went to run away, "we have to be back at school in time for lunch. I'm supposed to help Chad with his thing."

"Blah, blah, blah," he said. "You need new jeans, come on." He pulled me off into American Eagle.

"You know we can't afford anything in here," I said.

"Speak for yourself," he said, producing a credit card.

"You did not steal your mom's credit card this morning," I said.

"Nope. Last night. And it's Sarah's," he said. "C'mon. She has so much money, she probably won't even notice." We spent the morning surfing the mall for clothes and guys, even though neither of us actually needed any of those things, slipping in the back door of the auditorium about thirty seconds before the start of lunch. I raced to the cafeteria, where Chad was standing around. I gave him some flowers, took his basketball, and gave him a push. It didn't help. I had to do more.

"Yo! My friend has something he'd like to say!" I yelled. The entire cafeteria went dead quiet. Chad was surprised, but stood atop a table.

"Taylor McKessie, will you please come with me to Prom?" he asked. Taylor and the other girls conversed, and she agreed. Cheers and applause everywhere. "I have to go shoot some hoops." He went to go to the gym, but we had rehearsal after lunch during free period. We rehearsed _A Night To Remember_, which is so fun. Sometime after the one scene, I didn't see it, but Chuckie slipped Ryan a DVD he'd made sometime during the morning, don't ask me how (probably while I was at the yearbook committee), before we had to go to classes again. But I heard the conversation that followed.

"Look, I don't care if Troy's singing with Gabriella. He does that a lot. It doesn't mean anything," Ryan was saying. I decided it was in my best interest to not let them know I was dropping eaves. "In fact, I was about to choreograph their number, okay? So leave me alone."

"Just…watch the tape, okay?" Chuckie said. "I know it may seem like I'm trying to…screw you guys up, but I'm just being honest okay? I'm looking out for you. I don't want what happened to me to happen to you."

"Bull. Shit," Ryan said. "Look, this is hard enough without you butting in every three seconds. If you really want to help me and Troy's relationship, you'll stay the fuck out of it."

"I'm just–" Chuckie began.

"Jzztztzt," Ryan said, in a good imitation of his sister. "I don't wanna hear it. I have, like, four hundred other things I have to do, okay?"

"Like what?" Chuckie asked. "More important than this?"

"Well, let's see. I have a musical to choreograph, I have to learn my lines, and the music, as well as the dances, teach you basketball retards to do said dances, Oh, and the most important part, I have to ask Kelsi to the Prom before Sharpay kills me," Ryan said.

"Kelsi? But…I thought you and Troy would go together," Chuckie said. He sounded really confused.

"Yeah, right. Senior Prom. He _really_ wants to go with me. We already talked about it. He's taking Gabriella, and I'm taking Kelsi," Ryan said. "Did he…not tell you that?"

"No," Chuckie said. "I just thought…well, never mind." I left the vicinity, running almost directly into Gabriella, who insisted we get to class before we were late. I nodded, mind swimming over details I'd just learned.

We had another rehearsal after school, and Gabriella and I learned _Just Wanna Be With You_. It was decided that we'd sing together, just because of that chemistry that was always there when we sang. Ryan choreographed, and somehow managed to stay paint free.

Soon after, Sharpay gave me some bad news – Gabriella was going to have to leave for Stanford, really soon. And she was on the fence about it. I couldn't figure out why that could be, so I went to her house, to convince her to go. Things unraveled from there. Ryan and I had a big argument that night, as I squished into the house (my truck stopped working at Gabriella's house), and we ended up breaking up. I spent the night on the couch. Gabriella was gone by the morning. Sharpay would be taking her place in the musical. Tiara would be taking Sharpay's. I was depressed, but Gabriella called me every thirty seconds. I got the free cell phone pass in rehearsal, since it was Gabriella. Ryan was teaching me how to do a part of the dance for Sharpay's and my duet.

"You're easier to dance with than she is," I said. Ryan almost gave me a smile, but then Zeke and Jason almost dropped a house on us, and Sharpay practically leapt into my arms. It was a moot point after that. I stormed back to my own house that afternoon after rehearsal.

"Stop. Turn. Explain," my mom said, as I stormed through the living room.

"Not talking. Ryan and I had a big fight, broke up, I'm going to the junkyard with Chad to see if I can find a radiator pump. Be back later. You'll be seeing more of me around," I said, storming up the stairs. "Where the hell is my bedroom?"

"It's down here, where it's been since we changed the house around," my mom said from the kitchen.

"Right," I said, storming back down the stairs and into my room. About eighty percent of all my stuff was still at Ryan's, but I could make do. I found some clothes (and a bandanna that Ryan said was unfashionable, so I wasn't allowed to wear it) and then Chad showed up, so we went to the junkyard together. Evidently, he'd called everyone else we knew to show up during the dance break of the song he knew we were going to sing. Omniscient, much? I think so. When we got home, it was much after midnight.

"Don't wake your brother," my mom said from the couch.

"Uh-huh," I said, plopping into a chair.

"I'm sorry to hear about you and Ryan," she said.

"Sure you are," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I am," she said. "You should really get to bed, you have school tomorrow." I nodded. The second I got into my room, my cell phone rang.

"Shit, Gabi, it's the middle of the night," I said.

"I know," Gabriella said. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," I said. "I can't wait for Prom."

"Me neither," she said. "I'll see you then, right? I got your tux picked out at the store. Chad will know where to go."

"Cool, thanks. I'll go on…um, Thursday," I said. "We have rehearsal almost every night."

"Yeah. How's that going?" she asked.

"Sharpay is a manipulative psycho bitch," I said.

"How's Ryan?" Gabriella asked.

"Surprisingly upbeat for a guy who dumped his boyfriend," I said.

"You broke up? No way!" she said.

"You…didn't know that? I thought someone would have told you," I said.

"Where are you?" Gabriella asked.

"My house," I said. "I just got back from the junkyard. I think my truck works a little better now."

"Well, that's good. Sorry about you and Ryan," she said.

"That's what people keep saying," I said.

"I really am," she said. "Well, I gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I said. "Bye." We hung up, and I went to sleep. It was weird sleeping in my own bed. I made a note to get my pillows back from Chuckie (he'd evidently stolen them again. He does that sometimes. I hit him with water balloons, he dyes my hair green, so I bleach his, and then he takes all my pillows. It's a long story).

School went badly. Rehearsal went…badly. Kelsi said it was because I was missing Gabriella. Everyone was. Besides Sharpay. She was ecstatic. And the oddest thing: I don't really think it was me she wanted to sing with. She just wanted to sing at all.

I picked up my tux on Thursday after rehearsal, with Chad, and took it to my house. Gabriella called. Disaster. She wasn't coming back for Prom. It was two nights away.

"Dude, look, everyone knows you don't keep the girl after high school," Chad said. "And I'm right there, with you. Taylor's off to Yale." Bigger disaster. My love life had _always_ been messed up, but if college was taking Taylor and Chad to opposite sides of the country, it _had_ to be evil. My dad had even helpfuller advice. Not. Something about…UofA and wearing that Redhawks uniform. I just left. Got in my truck and drove to the school. Snuck in the gym entrance. There was a song coming on, I could feel it. Just a little heads up: Don't go the school at night. It gets very trippy. Hallways just revolve and you have to obey gravity. Just warning you. After screaming at the top of my lungs on the stage, I realized I was not alone. No, it wasn't everyone's favorite cameraman stalking me again. It was Ms. Darbus. _She_ submitted me to the Julliard people. Which would be great, except for it got me thinking. And we all know that that's never good.

So you know what I did? Course you do. Drove to California. Because I could. And it cost a lot of money. And a tip for anyone attending Prom: Chuck Taylor Converse All-Stars, no matter how cool they may look, make you look like an idiot, if worn with a tux. Just so you know. She had to come back. I wasn't going to let her stay. I drove her back to Albuquerque myself. We totally missed the Prom. I texted Jimmie (ROCKETMAN) to tell him to take my place if I didn't make it for the show. Not the best idea, but he's the new Troy, right? Ick, if he gets together with Tiara, I'm not sure what I'll do. It might be cool. I'm getting off track. Gabriella and I raced into the auditorium, just as Sharpay stormed off the stage.

"You have got to see this," Ryan said, directing us to the wings. Jimmie was standing on the stage in a ridonculous costume, and the audience was laughing. Gabriella and I rolled our eyes and sprinted to our places. The show would go on. We sang our version of the duet, which was infinitely awesomer than Jimmie and Sharpay's. It sort of went without saying that her and I were back together, somehow, especially when I decided that UC-Berkley was the best place for me to go to college. It was so predictable from the beginning that Ryan and Kelsi would get matching Julliard scholarships, and he and I had broken up, so it wasn't even a factor.

Graduation – any kind – is one of the saddest things that anybody will ever think up and force you to attend. It is. But ours went off with a song, an upbeat one at that, and all was well.

_**All together, makes it better****  
Memories that last forever****  
I want the rest of my life****  
To feel just like a  
High School Musical…**_

**The End. (Again, Not Really, But Sort Of.)**

**A/N: OMG, it's over. I swear. This story is over. You might be appalled at the lack of…well, ending that you wanted, but that's why you should read the sequel (starting in a couple days or so, I swear). And I'm very surprised no one ever called me on Troy's bedroom being downstairs.  
**

**I don't own anything that you recognize (and a lot of things that you don't). Please leave me a review! It'll make me smile through the extreme stress that is Organic Chemistry and stereoisomers and Newman Projections and Ultimate Platinum Carboxylic Failure.**

**Samantha.**

**Um, PS, a lot of you have this story on Alerts, Favorites, and/or have reviewed. Thank you all so much. I guess I'll list you all now, since I said I was going to:**

**'Mrs. Nick J' Ashley 'N' Amy  
Caragon  
DCLynneHaddock  
Liason4Lyfe  
Pen-Name-Kitsune-chan  
Potterdownthestreet  
TheCresentMoonWriter  
billyjamontoast  
comet80  
renthead0329  
wchsgirl2121  
love is overrated  
xTwilightSagaFanx****  
zashleysilver  
****xXxCelticXAshxXx****  
SarcaJerk  
And of course, (how could I forget?)  
EstrellaDeRoca.**

**:P**


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